Haven
by Dahlia Derbyshire
Summary: Seventeen-year old Mary returns to her homeland of Castanet. Ensnared in a quest to reawaken the blue bell, Mary realizes she bit off more than she can chew with a raging ocean and an old romance. Full summary inside. CANCELLED
1. When I was homebound

**Haven**

Based on Harvest Moon: Animal Parade

**Hey there! I really don't like long author's notes, so I'll keep this short. I love Harvest Moon, so here's a harvest moon fanfic. If you haven't played Animal Parade (which you should), don't worry, the characters in that game are the same in Tree and Tranquility. The only difference is that it's a coastal town, and instead of flowers there are bells.**

**If you're currently reading Extenuating Circumstances, (my Bleach/Naruto fic) I haven't stopped. I'm waiting for my wonderful beta-reader to send me the next chapter with his suggested revisions. So hold tight, it'll come.**

**Anyways, I hope you like this fic! Thanks for reading! Please review, even if you didn't like it!**

**Full Summary: **_After spending nine years traveling the world with her adventurous family, seventeen-year old Mary returns to her childhood home, the island of Castanet. On a quest to find the chipped piece of the blue bell, she, Roy –an old friend and romantic interest- and a small sprite named Finn team up to seek the help of the Harvest God; only instead of finding the piece, the quest leads to unearthed deception, and the true reason her mother agreed to leave Castanet all those years ago._

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><p>xXx<p>

The Middle East was incredibly beautiful as well as mysterious. Three years of my life were spent living in a clay house with my family in the middle of a small Egyptian village. The people were hospitable to us foreigners, and I rather liked the unique cuisine the area had to offer. Our neighbor had a daughter my age, named Evonka who I quickly befriended.

I had inherited my mother's brain in a sense that, like her, I learned things quickly. The language came easy to me after a year, and within months I adapted and picked up the customs of the people. However, we weren't fully in Egypt for cultural purposes. My father, the great adventurer Calvin, was intrigued by the Egyptian tombs. Thus, after six years of travelling through Europe we settled in a country of warm sand and old artifacts. My father took us on adventures often, but unlike my brother Mitchell I wasn't too interested in it. Rather than invest my time in secret tunnels and mummies, I helped my mother with a small garden at the back of our house.

Truth be told, when it came time to pack our things and leave, I had a harder time saying goodbye to that garden than I did my closest Egyptian friend, Evonka. My mother and I had put so much effort into the fresh fruit and flowers. Every morning I would wake up in the hopes that the plants were sprouting or ripe. When I wasn't being home-schooled by my mother or hanging out with Evonka, I was in that tiny little garden.

Now I stood on the edge of the village, a small Jeep packed with our small possessions and prizes ready to take us away. Evonka was in front of me, her eyes watering from the emotion. Apparently she was more of a sister to me than I thought.

Weeping, she pulled me into a tight hug. Instantly my face was buried in her dark hair. "I'll take good care of your garden, Mary!" She mumbled incoherently between sobs. I relaxed and hugged her back.

Maybe I would miss Evonka more than I thought. All those afternoons we spent walking through the village, laughing at my lame jokes and her uncanny ability to rant without breathing. I felt my own eyes shine with tears that I grudgingly fought against. I smiled at the memories and held her tighter. "I swear I'll come back and visit." I managed to say, the promise directed more towards my garden than Evonka.

Her family, who had grown closer to my own, said goodbye to us as well. We sniffled, laughed, and hugged, two families united by a sisterly bond; or at least, that's what Evonka always used to say. After half-an hour of the same things I finally climbed onto the Jeep next to Mitchell. The engine just barely started, grumbling and emitting various puffs of smoke where necessary. I heard my father laugh in the front seat, evoking a small comment from my mother. Whatever it was, I wasn't listening. I clutched the side of the vehicle and waved to Evonka, my eyes consistently straying to our clay house on the mountain side. Goodbye good friends, goodbye my garden.

I could tell my mother felt stressed within ten minutes of the car ride to the coast, where a boat would be waiting to take us back _home_. I didn't fully understand why she looked so distraught, but a comforting pat on the shoulder by my father told me it was because of the garden. Here I realized she and I had something more in common than our smarts; we would both miss those green vines and vibrant fruits exceedingly.

The ride to the coast felt discerningly short. To keep my mind off the garden I played "Eye Spy" with Mitchell, and won incredulously. Every time I quickly pointed and spat out the answer in one try he'd puff and push my shoulder, effectively shaking the Jeep. It was fun until our mother became irritated and barked at us to stop.

Only a moment after our little game was over my thoughts drifted to Castanet. The place I was born, the home I had taken my first steps in… It all came flooding back to me. We had friends there, family friends so close they were practically our relatives. There in Castanet the people were friendly and welcoming, as well as attractive. I distinctly remembered the names of a very specific family. Owen and Kathy were a nice married couple, and alluring in a meat-and-potatoes kind of sense. Owen was a big, burly man who once had a small crush on my mother, while his wife was a very energetic and curvaceous blond.

How in the world a man like that ever came to like my mother I'll never know. She is, perhaps, the plainest woman of the whole village. Unfortunately, I inherited her simple brunette hair and round features. Involuntarily I ran a hand through my longer brown hair, eventually turning it into a braid to pass the time. So simple…I silently desired my father and brother's sandy blond hair. Perhaps then boys might take an interest in me... Just then a specific boy came to mind but I pushed his memory back.

We eventually came to the coast, where a familiar boat waited for us. Jumping out of the Jeep, my father approached the boat in a stride. He came to the pier and stood at the edge, waving hands at the deck.

"Pascal!" He shouted at a sailor with his back to us. Curiously I followed suit and came to my father's side, leaving Mitchell and my mother to unload our cargo.

At mention of his name, the sailor spun around. His face instantly brightened at the sight of us, and he stumbled down the ramp and to the pier. The man was very old, but familiar. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I knew Pascal. The now white hair and beard, accompanied by the hat and stripe shirt, were all very familiar to me. As a child I came to him often, for what I didn't seem to remember…

Pascal shook my father's hand robustly, eventually pulling the man into a hug. "Good to see ya'!" He rumbled appreciatively. "You haven't changed a bit. Still puttin' yourself in dangerous mines I bet?"

My father chuckled. "No, not mines, Egyptian tombs." He corrected, grinning wildly.

My fifteen-year-old brother stomped towards us. "Hey Pascal," He said maturely, though I could tell it was with effort. Mitchell was just like my father, not only in looks but in personality. Adventure excited him, and I knew at the mention of tombs he'd come running to the conversation. Eventually he was followed by my mother, our cargo left next to us on the pier.

"Thank you so much for picking us up, Pascal," my mother said sweetly, brushing a strand of her short hair behind her ear exhaustedly. She offered her hand, but like my father she was pulled into a big hug.

Pascal released her, looking quite happy to see her. "It's no problem, Anna. Y'all know I'd never say no to ya'." It was then his old, wise eyes turned to me. Pascal gently took my hand, patting it. "You've grown so much…look just like your mother did when I first sailed her o'er to Castanet." Of course, he focused intently on my eyes, the only thing about me that didn't resemble my mother. They were a near-orange, golden hue, a startling contrast to the basic colors of both my parents. Thankfully, Pascal didn't mention it. The eyes were already so embarrassing as it was…

Quickly Pascal returned to his loud, sailor-self as he wildly gestured to the boat. "Let's get a move on, shall we. Don't wanna waste time dilly-dallyin'." He spoke, joining my parents in carting the cargo on board.

Mitchell and stayed put on the pier as to not get in the way. Even so, he turned to me with his eyebrows raised. "Since when did you know Pascal so well?" He asked, obviously having taken note of Pascal's strange familiarity with me. While Pascal hadn't even said a word to Mitchell, I got a whole sentence.

Though I couldn't remember why. I had only the brief flash of a memory; I was seven and I was on Castanet's worn down pier. I couldn't remember it all, but somewhere in talking with him I might have mentioned a '_Harvest God_'. The idea was absurd, and I merely shrugged my shoulders in response. "I dunno," I told Mitchell.

The two of us wandered onto the boat after the loading was done. We both lend a hand in bringing the ramp onboard, followed by the gentle rumbling of the boat as it started to sail, slowly.

With my life-jacket on I hung out at the front, leaning against the rail. We picked up speed quickly, some water sloshing up on deck with the initial first few waves. My reflection in the water was a jumbled mess of colors, but in all of those colors I could make out my eyes. Golden and shining, frighteningly bright. My face fell. I thought that the foreign environments of our nine years of traveling might dim or change the color, but that was just wishful thinking.

The wind rapped at my face, eventually unraveling the nice braid my hair was in. I sighed in discontent after several tries to make it nice again, before eventually giving up. The wind was too strong; I'd have to go somewhere else to braid my hair.

I strolled below deck to the drab booth my family sat in. I took a seat next to my father. They were talking about Castanet and our old home. When I arrived, my mother had been suggesting they refurnish the house a bit, perhaps even repainting and such to make it fit our older tastes. I smiled at the suggestion. There was no way in hell I'd sleep around the same stuffed bunnies and dinosaur wallpaper that I had as a child.

"Glad you joined us Mary, we almost thought you'd fallen overboard." My father teased, ruffling the already knotted hair on my head. Normally I would have laughed with him, but at the moment I was preoccupied with our living arrangements.

"I'm going to have my own room, right?" I asked skeptically, eyes directed to my mother. After all, it was _her _house.

She pursed her lips. "Only on one condition," she informed me as she folded her hands over the table, avoiding my eyes.

I narrowed my eyes. Already I didn't like the sound of this. "What's the condition?" I inquired, and when my mother wouldn't say it I looked to my father. He also seemed silent, almost sure that I wouldn't like what he was about to say.

"Well, you know how our old friends at Horn Ranch took in our animals before we left Castanet, right?" He asked, this time looking to Mitchell as well. The both of us nodded numbly, I could already tell where this was going. "As soon as we return, the first thing we'll be doing is buying back the animals still alive and some more, as well as re-planting the garden…" He mentioned the garden with some hope, knowing my obvious green-thumb.

My mother elusively cut in. "We need you and your brother to help out on the Farm. Maybe take turns between the plants and the animals…?" She looked hopeful.

I, however, was aghast. They knew the last thing I wanted was to become a farmer. Sure, I loved gardening, but our tiny Egyptian garden was nothing to the three plots of land I'd have to sow, water, harvest… Already my arms felt heavy and sore. "Are you kidding me?" I barked, "Isn't that your responsibility. It's _your _farm!" I accusingly pointed a finger at both parents.

My father raised his hands defensively. "Don't worry; it's not as hard as it looks. And your mother and I will be helping out occasionally…"

Mitchell quickly interjected. "Fine, that's all good and cool and all, but what will you be doing?" Ah, my younger brother, he had _such_ a way with words.

Again my father was quick to respond. He was always the better of the two adults when it came to calming us down. "Well, Mitchell, we'll be rebuilding the house to accommodate us. Within months it'll be a bigger, nicer home with a separate room for both you and your sister. We've already enlisted the help of Roy." He paused, quickly turning to me. "You must remember Roy, you and him were friends when you were kids.

I felt my stomach drop at the mention of his name. I'd been trying to forget about him, put everything about him aside. But now he was thrown back in my face. Yes, I remembered Roy. We weren't just friends, we were best friends. Roy was my accomplice in childish crime, and our chubby faces would allow us to get away with anything… But that didn't stay the same. As we got older, things changed. The day before my family left, Roy proclaimed to me certain feelings, feelings that I couldn't reciprocate. I'd effectively severed our friendship in half, and I was only eight…

There was no telling what I could do at seventeen.

Instantaneously I wished Evonka was with me, so she could sit next to me and console me. After all the years my only regret was my harsh rejection of Roy. We were only kids, and even though I was sure he'd have forgotten by now, I knew I never would. I had intended to return to Castanet with my head held high, to forgive myself and treat Roy fairly. Besides, I highly doubted such a small little crush would have lasted through nine years.

Despite my obvious discomfort with the topic, my family went on to enthuse about the new house. The plans were made, the material gathered. Mitchell had volunteered to help too rather than milk cows and sheer sheep, but he was denied. My father seemed to think the only help he needed was Roy, and maybe the local Carpenters Luke or Bo.

Still, I was heavily distracted to reminisce with them about the carpenters. While they gushed about Luke and Selena's second child on its way, I was entrapped in my own thoughts; my fears. The greatest fear I had was that, when I returned, Roy would no longer view me as a friend. His friendship was one I could not afford to lose.

Eventually the sun set and I drifted off to sleep. Knowing me the descent to slumber was anything but graceful; it was likely I fell forward and hit my head on the table, mouth open and snoring. Nonetheless, however I slept, I still got some good hours of sleep in.

When I finally woke up it was early morning, the boat was tied up, and there was a crowd of villagers waiting at the pier to greet us.

xXx

Did I expect everyone to change? Yes. But I would have never guessed how severe the changes would have been. Hastily I re-braided my hair as I scrubbed the drool off my face to greet them, Mitchell laughing at me while we walked to the deck. I wanted to appear like I had grown up, matured like I assumed my old school friends might have. Though quickly I learned the effort was unnecessary, that it wouldn't help at all.

The moment I sleepily stumbled down the ramp and looked over the crowd, I inwardly choked on my own surprise. The children I had gone to school with were nowhere to be seen. In their places stood brave adults who stood apart from their parents, clustered at the back of the crowd. They seemed to gawk at me, or more likely my eyes. It was perplexing. I'd seen my reflection in the water; my eyes couldn't be any different than when I left Castanet nine years prior.

My bag clutched tightly in my fists, I followed my family and Pascal down the ramp. The pier was shaky under the combined weight of the whole village. My nervous fear of drowning in a pier accident didn't seem so foolish anymore, and I quickly made a beeline for the stable concrete of Castanet's business district.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I was about to violently push out of their grasp until I saw who it was. Vivian had my arm, a gentle smile on her face. I hardly recognized her. She looked nothing like the eight-year old friend I'd left behind. Her features had changed, and she had finally grown into her ears. Her dark eyes looked intently into mine, and if it wasn't for the smile she had I would have thought she was calculating how to kill me. Vivian just had one of those faces. Who could blame her; she was Mayor Hamilton's granddaughter…

Vivian pulled me into a quick embrace. "Gosh Mary, you've changed so much." She said, sounding somewhat shaky. No doubt she had noticed my hair, braided exactly how it always was when I was a child. Once she pulled away I got a look at what she wore. She was stylish yet mature in her khaki skirt, fitted blouse and silver flats. Her light hair was pulled back into a bun, allowing me to see the pearls the adorned her ears. The office-look had always been Vivian's style, no doubt influenced by her father, Gill. Needless to say, I wasn't surprised.

"You've grown _so_ much more." I exaggerated sarcastically. Mentally I slapped myself for the comment. I had always been a harsh, serious child always pretending to laugh when something was funny. This time, however, I had to remind myself that my friends weren't the same innocent children anymore. Vivian's face recognized my tone and she frowned. The feeling of guilt swept up my inside in a title wave.

"Vivian, I'm so sor-" I didn't finish my apology, for near where my family greeted their old neighbors a second teen approached.

"You didn't think you'd get to walk away without saying hi to me, did you?" An outgoing, purple-haired girl called out as she closed the distance between us. I recognized her anywhere. It was Angie, the daughter of Candace and Julius. Looking back to the crowd I saw her parents, and her father was as fashion-forward as ever; no, not her mother, her _father_.

This time I offered a sincere smile. No more would I be distant and harsh. Too many people avoided me in Egypt for that. I was determined to live in Castanet with many friends and all of my dignity intact.

I forced a laugh. "Of course not!" We hugged briefly before Angie stood next to Vivian. It was then I noticed the girls' intent gaze at me eyes. Their attentions made me want to curl up in a ball and roll away into the ocean. Anywhere I wouldn't be subjected to the embarrassment.

It was my own brother, Mitchell, who had the guts to say what they both wouldn't. He came to my side and patted me on the back. "You must be so happy, sis. Your cat-eyes almost look…orange?" The hesitation in his voice worried me. Instantly I dropped my things and retreated to the edge of the pier, once again glowering at my reflection.

He was right, though. My eyes were _orange_. A bright, fiery, orange. The sight caught me off guard, and I nearly fell backwards. I wiped at the sides of my faces nervously. "Wha-?" Without warning the color dulled, returning to the golden hue it was on the boat. Needless to say, when I turned back to the three others we were all increasingly suspicious.

"It was probably just the lighting," Vivian meekly consoled.

"I'm sure we're all just imagining things, since we haven't seen you for so long, Mary!" Angie added.

I considered their words and agreed, momentarily distracted to the mountain in the horizon. I'd never been near the mines, my mother had forbade me to get anywhere near the mountain, and that included the small businesses that littered its base near the top of the waterfall. It was then I looked back to the group, only to note a certain male striding towards us.

He was tall, and lean. The muscles he had were nowhere near as impressive as his father's, but nobody seemed to care. Both Vivian and Angie swooned at his face, which I merely gawked at. Over the years his face had become more angular, certain features more defined. His red hair, which had been wild and unkempt as a child, was now nicely framing his forehead with one or two loose bangs. Unlike the others, his skin was tan. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he'd lived in Egypt, too.

Roy was no longer a boy, he was a _man_. The same conversation I had played out to apologize to him wasn't suited for the Adonis currently approaching. I had to rethink my strategy, one that would no longer include our friendship. So much had changed, and I realized then that no matter how deep our past intertwines, things could never be the same. I couldn't be friends with him when every time I'd look at him I'd be drawn to his skin, or his lips. That would make things complicated, and confusing. On the boat I may have told myself to be brave, but facing Roy was harder said than done. Like a lost puppy I grabbed my stuff and turned to Mitchell.

"Tell mom and dad that I'm going to house, okay?" He nodded, and I quickly turned to Angie and Vivian. "It was great seeing you guys." I backpedaled away from the group, all the while smiling nervously to them. "We should, uh… hang out sometime, kay?" I stuttered, turning my back and rushing away without a response.

Out of sight from the pier and its miniature party I ran for it, my arms bobbing up and down with the luggage in my hands. Things were so much different here at Castanet than I remembered, and not just the people. Leaving the coastal business district I came across one of the beaches, which was selectively closed off by a red-and-white wooden sign. I came to it and looked over. The beach, one of my favorite places (especially then since I came to love the sand in Egypt) was wrecked. Various jumbled seaweed or garbage littered the surface. Not only that, but there was hardly a beach showing. The tide was up incredibly high, lapping at the base of the pathway that was blocked.

I put the strange beach activity out of my mind and continued onward to the house, which wasn't far away. The house, thankfully, was still upright but looked somewhat damaged. Our plots of land were cleared of any life; the soil appeared dry and was littered with weeds. I sighed at it, knowing I'd be the one to clear the weeds out. The barn and coop next to the house were severely damaged. In the barn's roof I spotted a gaping hole, from what I didn't know. Either way it wasn't really my problem; it was Roy's problem.

The door of the house opened and I froze, thinking it might have been a criminal. I was still unaccustomed to the neighborly unlocked doors in this coastal town. The cities in Europe we have visited were infested with crime, and I had gotten so used to the security alarms and bolted doors that I nearly threw my luggage at the two figures that came out of the house. I was only yards away, close enough to make a good hit.

With my luggage held violently above my head, I felt like a complete idiot when I saw it was only Toby and Renee. They were a young couple, far younger than any other I knew. (Though any stranger would be suspicious of Toby's white hair.) The fisherman and his wife looked at me peculiarly, before shrugging nonchalantly and walking towards me.

I lowered my weapon and dropped the baggage on the ground. A hand over my heart, I breathed to calm the adrenaline currently shooting throughout my veins. "I thought you two were criminals or something…" I breathed.

Renee giggled. "It's so good to see you all grown up, Mary. It feels like it was only yesterday you, Roy, and Matt were playing out in Flute fields." Ah yes, there was another one of my friends. Matt was their gentle, reliable son who I felt was my long-lost brother. I entrusted him with anything, and I hoped he hadn't changed as much as anyone else.

"Where is Matt?" I asked, considering I hadn't seen him at the welcoming party.

Toby sighed. "He's probably out fishing somewhere, probably at the river on the mountaintop." The man sighed a second time, increasingly distressed. "Something so weird has been happening lately. The ocean's been acting up, and the whole village was worried that today there would have been a storm too strong for Pascal to bring you and your family home."

I nodded like I understood, when in truth, I didn't. I hadn't been told anything about wild ocean waters or storms. I'd been kept out of the loop. Storms and typhoons were serious things in Castanet, where the majority of the people survived off of agricultural living. There was no industry here, only farms and ranches.

"So," Renee cut in, "I hear you're going to help out on the Farm this time." She had her eyebrows raised high, obviously looking for affirmation. I ground my teeth together.

"Not to whole farm," I responded, sounding a little _too _relieved, "Just the land. I'll be planting and harvesting." I sideways glanced at the fields of nothing but weeds. I was going to hate it. Hey, at least there was a pond by the third field that I could drown myself in if things got too hard. The thought was so sadistic I frowned at myself. There I went again, being cold and distant. But this time, not to my friends, to myself.

Despite my inner quarrel, the couple before me seemed oddly pleased. It was a suspicious sort of pleased I saw in their eyes. Instinctively I narrowed mine.

Renee was the first to speak. "We've been taking good care of your family's farm animals at my parents Ranch while you were away, but that wasn't the only thing we took in. A long time ago Matt told us about your kitten, Chex…"

I'd almost forgotten about Chex. We found the homeless kitten when I was only six, and I had adored it ever since. I let it sleep in my bed, and it followed me around. The two of us were inseparable, and any of my young friends were quick to notice. Chex was the first form of responsibility I'd ever have, but like a cruel child I left the animal behind when we left Castanet. My heart sunk into my stomach when I remembered poor Chex, meowing hopelessly at my little form as I scampered around my room and packed. Back then I was so excited to see the world and all of its wonders that I forgot about my own little wonder at home.

However, I felt significantly brighter when I repeated Renee's words in my mind. My mood was lifted especially when Toby mentioned Chex being the first animal they took in for us, and my excitement was enormous. I forgot about our conversation and ran to the house, stumbling over my own feet. I threw the luggage down on the inside, watching it bounce on the couch as I rushed to my room. Past our kitchenette, past my parent's bed, and into the room Mitchell and I shared.

The push of the door alerted a certain Tabby sitting at the windowsill that its master was home.

xXx

I sat on my old twin bed for hours recapturing Chex in my arms and heart. I stroked his side lovingly, adoring how he purred and curled up in my embrace. Chex was an older cat now. His energetic, exciting kitten personal had long since gone and was replaced with a matured form. Like my friends, he had grown up too. I enjoyed Chex's company, and talked to him knowing that in the house I was alone and safe from prying ears.

I spoke about Europe and all the cities I'd seen, the same monuments I'd studied in Castanet's schoolhouse. Paris and the Eiffel Tower, England and the Big Ben, it was all magnificent but nothing compared to my adventures in Egypt. In reality, the adventures were nothing. I'd went tomb-wandering with my father only once, and it didn't really interest me. My adventure was my tiny garden, with its exotic plants and soil.

My rambling continued on to talk about leaving Egypt, Evonka, and the garden. Of course, I blabbered about my upcoming job as a farmer, which now didn't seem like such a big deal considering how much I went on about my garden back at Egypt.

In the end, I was thankful for Chex's company. I finally had someone to talk to who would listen and accept what I had to say. I made a boatload of realizations about my upcoming job, and my behavior to Roy when I went off in jabbering to Chex. The cat readily listened to everything, occasionally stretching his limbs but nonetheless very attentive to me. He was all the company I needed.

My behavior to Roy was appalling, now that I looked at it more. What kind of old friend was I when I walked away from him only hours ago? It was a despicable move of mine. Albeit I would rather have the dreaded conversation about our friendship with him in private, I shouldn't have walked away. I could have asked Vivian and Angie to give me some space and time, and I sure as hell could have pushed Mitchell into the ocean if he started to bug me about Roy.

The door to the main room of the house opened up and I froze, zipping my lips. I heard my parents enter, followed by Mitchell. They were consumed by their own gossip, once again talking about Selena's oncoming second child. (Pregnancies were big things in this town, apparently.) I cradled Chex in my arms and walked out of the room. They all sat around the table, various dishes of food in their hands.

My mother looked up and saw me first. "Hey honey. I see you've found Chex, Renee and Toby stopped by the pier to tell us. Hey, did you know Matt's going to take over the family ranch?" She told me.

No, I didn't know, but to save time I pretended like I did. "Oh, yeah. Totally." I mumbled uncaringly, plopping Chex down on the open chair next to my mother. He purred and looked up at the food on the table. "So, how'd it go?" I asked them, leaning over the table.

My father elaborated for me, taking off his cowboy hat and resting it on the table near the tin-foil wrapped food. "It went very well. Seems the villagers put together a homecoming feast for us." He gestured to the food, his expression softening when he focused on me. "You should have been there; everybody was so looking forwards to seeing you again."

Mitchell chuckled. "They said they missed your usual 'spunk', if only they knew what your spunk was like now." He openly mocked me. He knew how bad I was at conversing with people, how fake I had to appear to be to make them like me. If I was my _real _self they saw, they wouldn't like me nearly as much. Not to mention I was destined to disappoint. Castanet still remembered the happy little eight-year old that had not a care in the world… the seventeen year old version of her was _very _different.

My mother sighed at Mitchell. "Nonetheless, so many people were eager to see you. You should have been there." She told me, expecting me to feel bad about abandoning them.

"Oh how _horrible _it must have been without me, then. A whole town of people equipped with excessive hugging and tray after tray of free food." I expressed dramatically. "The _agony _you must have felt in their embrace! How atrocious their happy smiles and warming personalities must have been to face all alone, without me! Ah, if only I was th-"

My mother's face fell. "That's enough," she told me, not amused. Though my brother and father were very amused, both stifling laughter.

While both my parents worked to unravel and drool over our delicious gifts, I continued the chit-chat. "I know your dying to give me the gossip." I told them, specifically my mother who had always had a knack for rumors. She flocked to gossip faster than a soccer mom at a Macy's 50% off sale.

She smiled thankfully at me. "Well, you'll never believe how everything's changed." And thus she went off, retelling everything she'd heard from the others. It seemed Jin and Anissa's son, Van (who fifteen, like Mitchell), has just recently learned how to swim. It was about time, considering Castanet was an _island_. Though that wasn't even the most appalling the "scandalous" news, most people were ecstatic to hear that Selena and Luke were having a second child. Other than my own parents, they seemed to be the only other couple in the entire island to want two children. My mother's tone darkened when she came to the last bit, an upcoming funeral.

Ramsey, the blacksmith and Roy's father's mentor had died of a stroke not long ago, and the funeral was scheduled for Wednesday. Hearing the news I nearly choked on my pasta. As a child I met Ramsey early on in my friendship with Roy. He was an important figure to not only Roy, but Roy's father Owen and his aunt, Chloe. I sincerely wished to give my heart out to them in their mourning. To me, Ramsey had always been such a nice old man, despite his occasionally cross moments.

Together as a family we ate only a little of the food, for most of the time our mouths were occupied with talking about Castanet. I sat numbly at my seat for the most of it, while my father and mother reminisced on their days here as young adults. Turns out they were closer friends with the others here than I thought. Very briefly I heard the Garmon Mine area mentioned, but my mother was quick to meaninglessly change the subject. For some reason, she never wanted me to step foot near the mountain. I, however, wouldn't let anything stop me.

Her resistance to me going to Garmon Mine only made my want stronger, and it was a lasting effect. Even then, as I poked at the food with a fork, I knew I had to go and find out what was happening up there. Garmon Mine was Roy's ancestry, typically. When they were younger he practically gushed about the place and his Auntie Chloe, who lived up there. I'd met Chloe, but only when she came down to the bar to visit her brother, his wife, and their young son. Not once had I bothered to see the things on the mountain, and I regretted it.

Even so, I knew I had to postpone this adventure. Ramsey's funeral was coming up in two days, and going up there within the grieving period would be a very foolish idea. Until things cooled down, I would remain locked at sea level. The thought in mind I excused myself for bed. I picked Chex up and strode to the room, listening to my family's talk recede.

Dressed in the pajamas I'd packed I crawled into my old twin bed, uncomfortably squished together due to its small size. Nonetheless, I was more comfortable then if Chex hadn't been there with me, curled up at my side.

I slowly inhaled the scent of my old room, musty and aging. Nonetheless, I acknowledged the scent as my home. In Europe things had never felt this comfortable, and no matter how much I liked the Egyptian sands I was never able to fall asleep so easily as I could here, in Castanet. As I drifted off to sleep, a smile crept up on my chin. Finally, I had found home.

Now, how long would it last?


	2. When I witnessed a lovers' quarrel

**If you're reading this, thanks. I really appreciate the views, it makes me feel like my work doesn't completely suck. Dx**

**So sincerely, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your reading this makes my obsession for Harvest Moon worth something. **

**I don't own Harvest Moon: Animal Parade. I mean, I own a copy of the game but not the actual rights to the game itself… but wouldn't it be cool if I did? Woo**

xXx

For once I dreamt an actual dream. It had been years since I was last blessed with a vision of something in my sleep other than completely darkness. And this dream, this sacred, rare occurrence of the subconscious wasn't just a normal dream. It didn't involve intoxicating candy lands, or talking animals, or me falling off the edge of the cliff. The dream was special, because while I dreamt it I didn't even feel like I was sleeping. I felt awake.

In the dream I stood alone in the center of a small pathway. It was just barely wide enough to fit one person, and led off into the distance. On either side was a canopy of trees and bushes, the occasional spring herb lying on the ground around me. I didn't make an effort to pick them up; instead I focused on the light breeze coming from up the path. It blew in my face, ticking my loose hair.

I followed the path. My feet were bare, and within two steps dirt-covered. I didn't mind, this was just a dream other way. I indulged my subconscious for a bit longer as I followed the dirt path with my dirty feet, and my loose hair. There was a distant sound now, gentle and wispy like the breeze I felt. It whispered something that I couldn't make out. Out of instinct I quickened my pace, straining to listen closely. I hardly noticed how the path became wider, preparing to open up to something.

I could hear it now, the sound. It was a woman's voice, and was very sweet. It reminded me of Angie's mother's voice, Candace. She was a shy, quiet woman, with a voice so light and airy you had to lean forward to hear it. That's what this new voice was like. Only rather than shy, it felt powerful despite its decibel.

As I crept further and further, the path began to open up and change. The trees around me added square stones, some broken, to their area. Curiously, I stood on my toes to see further on, but a condensing fog blocked my view. It was an annoying mist, and I tried and failed to swipe it away out of annoyance. Though it didn't last for long, at least the swiping didn't. I felt my foot step on something cold, and as I looked down I could see stones through the fog. Marble stones, almost like the ones used in a roman coliseum.

Apprehensively I put both feet on the stones; they were smooth and oddly comforting to my feet. I knelt down for a better look, running a hand against their smooth surface. It was then my ears perked at the voice, wispy and coming from the foggy horizon. This time, I could just barely hear what it said.

"_Mary…."_

I jumped to my feet at the mention of my name, heart pounding. How could it know my name? And why in the hell was I assuming it was an "it"? For all I knew it was a person, not a talking animal like in normal dreams. No, this had to be a person. Only a person would know my name… Unless of course it was just a fluke, maybe I had heard it wrong. Dreams are so random, my name could mean anything…

Then the voice went again, _"Mary…I need you…"_

The words were definitely English, and definitely human. I shuddered. Suddenly the air around me felt cold and caused me to shiver. I wanted to get out of there, I didn't feel safe. Carefully I rotated to face the way I came, but there was nothing left. The fog was so heavy, like a solid object, that it blocked my path. My hand couldn't penetrate its surface, much less my feet.

I shivered again, this time gasping. I needed warmth, and the only way I could possible find it was to go forward. Unknowingly I riveted in my sleep. For my body and soul I wanted the dream to end, but I couldn't. I tried to imagine something silly happening, to wake my body from its sleep, but nothing would work. I was still in the foggy expanse of stone, dirt, and trees. The only way left was to go forward…

"_Mary…follow my voice…"_

Yeah, like that was very helpful. It was the very voice that sent fearful shivers up my spine, that very voice that made me want to hide behind a rock. Nonetheless, I followed it right up to a descending marble staircase. Carefully my foot fumbled on the first step down, and I took one hand away from rubbing warmth into my arms and put it on the rail, steadying myself. I descended the structure, only about eight steps total.

Down at the bottom I could see things clearer, as if the fog wasn't so thick down here. Carefully I peered around the area. I heard something more than a voice now, it sounded distinctly like rushing water. Curiously, I took a few steps forward. One step…two step, nothing watery yet… It was on the third step that rather than landing on stone, my toes were pushed into warm water. Quickly I pulled my foot out.

"What the-" I mumbled, watching as the fog to my sides cleared. I began to see it, what I was standing in. It was like a small spring. There was a path over the spring made of the same marble stones from before, cracked and spread out. Carefully I followed it, not wanting to slip or fall in, but also to relax in the warmth of the spring air.

"_Hurry Mary…hurry…"_

I frowned. "All right, all right. I'm coming." I responded to the voice snidely, earning no response. I quickened my pace, eventually finding myself standing before an ascending staircase, same as before but only going up. I walked up it and rushed the last three steps. My feet hit something soft, wet…grassy. Perplexed I looked around. Where I stood, the fog had cleared.

I stood at the beginnings of a deep meadow lined by trees. Though it wasn't the nice scenery that caught my attention, it was the source of the voice ahead of me. A woman stood in the center of the meadow, and behind her was a worn-looking tree. She smiled at me.

"_Finally you're here…" _The woman said. She was gorgeous, inhumanly beautiful. Her hair was a myriad of blues and greens, and it was so long that its decorative braid ran all the way to her shins. She wore a roman toga of sorts, the sleeves pinned together at her shoulders with a decorative gold piece. Aside from her womanly features, her face was astoundingly radiant. She had a round, warm face with a pair of thick lips. The woman's eyes were the same mystical color of her hair framed with thick lashes, and they blinked at me in curiosity.

Nevertheless, her smile didn't fade. _"I have never seen a human possessing such peculiar eyes as yours, child." _She mumbled, caught somewhat off guard.

I blushed. Out of anyone, she was the only one who noticed my eyes in a complimentary fashion. "Well, thanks…" I managed to respond. Being in her presence was hard; she was so intimidating to me, an average human girl.

"_Now, Mary. I am the Harvest Goddess." _She gestured her arms wide to her whole being. She was definitely a goddess, but a _harvest _goddess I wasn't so sure of. I quirked my brow in suspicion, which didn't go by missed. _"You may not believe it now, but soon you will. I am as real as you and your family."_

I rolled my eyes. "Pft. You're not real, this is a dream. I'm dreaming, and I should be waking up any moment now." I told the 'Harvest Goddess'. Yet half-way through my voice shrunk, her gaze settled on me so easily and was discerning, quickly I lost gusto for whatever else I might've had to say.

"_I'm not your dreams; I've merely entered your dreams in the hopes to ask you for help." _She spoke, her demeanor suddenly thrown on edge by an earthly rumbling. The ground vibrated, and I nearly lost balance. The Harvest Goddess quickly glanced around the area. _"Someone is waking you up… Quick, before you go!" _Now her voice was filled with urgency, her eyes wide with worry. _"You must find…_"

"Mary, Mary wake up!" It was Mitchell's voice that rang through the skies of my subconscious, drowning out the Harvest Goddess mid-sentence.

"…_sprite to help…"_

Again Mitchell drowned her out when he said, "Mary, it's our first day at work! Don't leave me hanging!"

"…_missing…chipped bell…"_

Whatever she finished with saying I missed, Mitchell shook my shoulders so hard I woke up gasping, sitting up in my bed so fast our foreheads collided. We both recoiled in pain, clutching our heads. He cursed wildly for a kid his age, looking at me angrily. Mitchell was quick to storm out of the room angrily.

Next to me Chex awoke with a gentle meow, and I gently scratched under his chin. Distracted by my dream, I sat in bed for a few minutes. It had been such a strange dream… Studies had shown that dreams often are connected to the real world, but what could possibly be real about what I had just seen, what I just walked through? None of it seemed real, and I hardly ever believed in things like Gods or Goddesses. Those were just legends, just fairytales.

Putting the dream aside for later speculation, I got ready for the day ahead.

xXx

I dressed for the beautiful spring weather in some of my mother's old work clothes. Some of her old work clothes I didn't fit very comfortably in, but others I did and they worked wonders for my eyes. I singled out a yellow outfit of hers to bring out my eyes, a pair of muddy old boots, faded jeans, brown belt, yellow button-up with long, folded sleeves and a blue scarf to wrap around my neck. Looking in the mirror I appeared to be a real farmer…it was disgusting.

I sighed, catching the attention of my father, who'd been lounging at the table reading the Nocturne News, Castanet's latest addition while we had been away traveling. He looked over to my form in front of the mirror and chuckled. "Don't like it?" He asked nonchalantly, leaning back with his feet on the table.

I glared at him, and then his feet. "You're so going to get it. Mom hates it when you put your feet up like that." I told him, eyebrows high.

As usual he didn't take the thread very seriously. "Ah, but see, the great thing to that is it only applies when she's _here_." He winked at me, taking his feet off the table while he set the newspaper down. He came to my side by the mirror, adjusting the scarf around my neck.

Sighing heavily at the farming girl in the mirror, I slipped a pair of brown leather gloves on. "I really don't like this…I hope you know that." I informed. "I also hope you know that you're driving your kids away by forcing us to do this."

My father rolled his eyes. "Oh, but that's the point. Once you're gone your mother and I will have all this wonderful space and silence to ourselves!" He smiled, his humor effectively getting me to smile back despite how I protested. "See, there we go. You look so beautiful when you smile."

Instantly I frowned again, striding away to the fridge. He crossed his arms and followed, leaning against the countertop. "What is this really about, Mary? Why are you in this funk of a mood?" Ah, there we go, the question everyone has been meaning to ask.

Without getting breakfast I slammed the fridge shut. "Why are you so eager to know? It hasn't really occurred to you or mom to ever ask before, why are you suddenly so curious? And, by the way, funk isn't a very adult word, it makes you sound stupid. Now, if you want a _real_ f-word, you should try fuc-"

"Oh hold on there, little lady." He quickly interrupted. "You know how your mother feels about that language." I looked up at him, hardly amused. My father rubs his chin with a hand, inspecting me for a moment, before his face lights up like…well, a light. "I have just the thing for you."

Quickly he takes off his treasured cowboy hat and plops it down on my head. "There, I've figured it out." He told me. Without waiting for a response he strode away from the kitchen and to the front door. It shut quietly, leaving me to drown in my own thoughts.

Had he really figured it out, or was he just playing with me? I highly doubted he could accurately pinpoint the source of my problems, considering there were so many things that plagued my life nowadays. A part of me, though, appreciated how hard he tried to bond with me. I sauntered over to the mirror and again inspected my reflection. I tilted the cowboy had forward, and then backwards, looking at it on my head from all angles. I rather liked it, I felt genuine in that hat. Unknowingly I smiled sincerely at my reflection.

As I left the house to bask in the modest spring weather I was stopped by my mother, who was just returning home from the town. She didn't seem to notice my hat, or was more preoccupied with bag after bag of supplies in her arms. She directed me to Marimba Farm and told me to take the money out of her pocket and use it to buy seeds for the plots. She also gave me a list of what to buy, apparently thinking I was clueless when it came to plants.

She went on about fertilizer being held in the back shed, but I wasn't exactly listening. I was more focused on looking over the list of seeds I was required to buy. Luckily for me, what flowers we chose to buy were left up to my choosing. I was about to thank her, but before I could the front door to the house had closed in her wake._ Figures…my mother, the woman who never stops moving, _I thought to myself.

As I walked down to the main dirt road I spotted Mitchell out by the barn, working hard to herd three cows, two sheep, and a goat. I waved to him mockingly, amused by his struggle in leading them away from the barn that would soon be under repair. He scowled at me as a passed. The joys of sibling bonding…I didn't even offer to help.

I took the dirt road down to the river, and upon crossing the bridge I came across Flute Fields. It was a very large expanse of grass and dirt road. There were two businesses here, right next to each other. Marimba Farm and Horn Ranch, the latter was the only place to buy farm animals in Castanet. Alas, I directed myself towards Marimba Farm, and along the way passed the path that led to Fugue Forest, its trees so similar to those in my dreams.

I took moment to soak in the area. It had been so long since I last walked around Flute Fields. Nothing had changed. Julius, now accompanied by Candace and Angie all lived in his house by the riverbank, near yet another house that had been vacant for years. As a child I had always planned to buy the vacant when I was older. Its location next to the river was truly a sight to see, and it had enough room in the front for a small flower garden.

At exactly eight o'clock in the morning, opening time for most businesses in the area, I reached the small field in front of the business, which it shared with Dakota's family's home. Ah, Dakota, child of Chase and Maya. Not to get me wrong, she was an okay girl, but I didn't like her; I merely tolerated her. (Though I incredulously respected her genius cook of a father, who spoke his mind when and where he wanted to.) Just like me he had a knack for scaring people away with a sadistic type of speech that mocked anything he didn't like or approve.

I entered walked up the porch to Marimba Farm and entered, a bell above the door chiming. The front desk was empty, thus I occupied a few moments wandering the shelves of seeds against the wall. While looking over the various spring plants I braided my hair, and it wasn't until I braided all the way to my frayed ends did I realize I'd been waiting a full twenty minutes. I pursed my lips, walking over to the front counter. Out of curiosity I peaked over the edge, hoping that I was being punk'd. Instead I only saw the carpet, no cashier cowering behind the desk.

Irritated, I tapped my foot against the ground. People in Castanet didn't usually leave customers waiting, at least not anybody I had met… I checked the clock on the wall every minute or so, becoming increasingly ensnared by my own lack of patience. I crossed my arms, grinding my teeth, which once combined with my tapping foot left nothing else for me to do to pass the time. Grumbling to myself, I slapped my hands to my sides angrily and wandered over to the right of the building, where the shop ended and the family home began.

Following through the archway I entered the family kitchenette. The walls were a soothing lavender color, and the dining room table was a dark cheery wood. It effectively calmed some of my mood, but not all. I stopped under the threshold when I heard something break in the other room, the bedroom.

A woman with flaming pink hair came storming out. "Just _what _were you thinking?" She barked at somebody behind the door. As she stormed past me, hair a mess, and chest heaving, I noticed the familiarity of her face. It was none other than Chloe, now a full adult. What was she now, going on 28? It felt strange, considering only nine years ago she was one of the older kids who played with us younger ones in Flute Fields. She didn't even see me as she swept herself out of the building, the door slamming behind her.

Coming out of the bedroom was a man of similar age with spiky blond hair. He was distressed, flustered from whatever had happened. I could tell he wanted to chase after Chloe, but once he saw me he stopped. "Ah, sorry you had to see that." He apologized, sauntering past me and to the shop, where he took his place behind the counter. Finally.

I came to the front of the desk, pulling the list from the pocket and slapping it down on the desk. "I need these seeds, if you could. Also, I'd like to buy three packs of Begonia." I mumbled plainly, taking the scrunched up money from the same pocket.

While he worked to fill a basket with the seeds, I noticed his eyes flicker back to the door repeatedly. I pursed my lips, unsure what to do or say. Was it really my place to get in between a lover's quarrel? I just assumed he and Chloe were together, considering the whole situation just screamed 'soap opera' to me. He furrowed my brows together.

He seemed to notice my expression. "Again, sorry you had to see that. I don't usually let personal matters interrupt work hours…" He expressed. With the order done we exchanged money. "I hope you didn't have to wait long," he told me as he worked the register.

There were numerous things I wished to say to him, but again I was forced to remember my personal promise to be nice. Thus, I forced a polite, ladylike smile. "Oh, it wasn't very long at all. I got here late, you see…after I was distracted by…a…" I paused. I should have stopped talking after 'all', but this façade of niceness, once started, was hard to stop.

"Distracted by a what?" He asked, glancing up at me from the register. Unlike most he didn't seem disturbed by my eyes, probably because he had a unique pair of his own. They were a mixture of light blue and green, almost like the Harvest Goddess from my dream. I was almost entranced by them for a second, before I went on.

"Uh, distracted by a cute…turnip…" I blurted out foolishly. She had meant to say dog.

He flat-out laughed at me as the register chimed and opened up. "Really? A turnip. Out of all the plants you choose to say one that isn't even in season? And you call yourself a farmer," he playfully responded.

I frowned, roughly taking my change from his hand. "For the record, I didn't call myself a farmer. I'm not a farmer." I took the basket by the handle.

Again he laughed, and it only irritated me more. "You're funny. Anyways, I'm Taylor." He told me, holding out a hand. I was prepared to bite his hand off, but again I had to act nice. I gratefully shook his hand, my own arm shaking like a dead fish. Again, yet another thing I wasn't good at; handshakes. Taylor was quick to notice, and chuckled once more.

I clenched my jaw, hastily taking my basket and holding it to my side. "I'm Mary." I responded through tense lips before I swiftly exited the building, cursing at my luck. I suddenly saw why Chloe would run out angry by this man, to me he was insufferable. I could only imagine how such an imaginative and fiery personality like Chloe might respond to him.

_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, _I told myself as I walked the path to home.

During the walk back I imagined several different scenarios in which Chloe might have reacted that way to. Just to please myself, I started with the most obvious: Chloe had intended for their relationship to be something more serious, but Taylor had only the intention of a short, live-in-the-moment type connection. Ouch, that had to hurt Chloe. Despite how I whole-heartedly planned never to expect such otherworldly things from a man –that is, assuming I'll ever find one- , I could see where she might come to believe it could happen. Taylor came from a good family, or at least that's what I assumed. He worked at Marimba Farm, owned by Anissa's parents and businesses in Castanet usually get passed from family member to family member. Nonetheless, Chloe must have thought this would make him a stable companion.

Then again, it was even possible the two weren't even in a relationship. Their little fight could be one between friends, or one between possible lovers. Perhaps Chloe saw something in Taylor that she had never seen before now, and when she tried to act on it she was harshly rejected. Even so, it could have been the other way. _Taylor_ might have seen something in _Chloe… _I quickly shook away this hypothesis, knowing Chloe she would have been able to sway Taylor into liking her. She may have not been astoundingly gorgeous like some other villagers on the island, but she had the persuasive skills of corrupt lawyer to a jury board of biased business owners. In other words, she would always win.

I didn't like to imagine the third reason, for this one truly worried me. What if, just maybe, Chloe was pregnant? There had yet to been any significant evidence, as I didn't see any baby bump and her skin was most certainly _not _glowing, but it was still a possibility. If it were true I worried for her, and Taylor, and their families.

It was then I halted in my tracks, astounded by my thoughts. I was gossiping to myself so easily…it was so frighteningly similar to my mother. My eyes opened wide at the realized, and I was quick to forget every hypothesis I'd made about the situation. I needed to be more like myself in the matter: whatever happened, it was none of my business and I didn't care. I repeated that through my head. _It is none of my business and I don't care, _I told myself profusely.

Eventually the fence to our farm came to sight, and I relaxed. I had effectively forgotten about the lovers' quarrel at Marimba Farm, and was back to my good old self. I approached the first plot of land with the ceremonious dragging-of-my-feet and dropped the basket on the ground. Behind the house in the shed I retrieved the old copper watering can and filled it up in the well, dropping that too next to the basket. A ways away Mitchell was still keeping the animals confined, which then brought my eyes to animals' home, the barn currently under construction.

My father was on the roof of the barn, hammering down a sturdy looking metal over the whole, with a toolbox at his hip. In front of him, assisting him on the roof was a second figure. Tan, red hair, handsome in every way…he was an Adonis.

Roy was here.

How long had I been gone?

I quickly averted my eyes at the house, which my mother is currently exiting. She's wearing her nice day clothes, apparently not coming over to me to help with the weeding. She smiles from afar. Her short hair is pulled back with a white bandana, which lets me get a closer look at the crow's feet around her eyes.

"Thank you so much for doing this sweetie," she says to me, patting me on the shoulder, "I really needed someone to do this. Just don't forget about the two other fields." She pointed to one father down on our land, and then to a smaller one by the pond. I sigh.

"Oh, don't worry." She says again. "It looks hard, but you get used to it."

Without another word she scampers off towards the town, leaving me with three full fields (probably a whole acre in size) to weed. I feel my blood run cold at the thought of it. I had never been a fan of a heavy workload. To take my mind off of the stress I began to nervously braid my hair back as I turn to the field, now facing the barn once again. I caught Roy looking at me, in which we both quickly turn our heads away. Still, after telling myself to be strong, I just can't face him…

Distraught by my failure I knelt down in the soil and get to work, hunched over in the sun digging and pulling where needed. The work was oddly tranquil, and quickly I was swept away into my own little, peaceful world where lovers' don't quarrel and I most certainly didn't have a handsome boy glancing at me every fifteen minutes. It was a wonderful world, but even in all it's serenity it missed something.

It was a shockingly sunny spring day, and the sun bore down on my heavily. My father's hat was a big help, but was hardly enough. Every now and then, when I turned the angle of my neck or back I had the sun glaring into my vision, bright enough that I would become blind for a few moments before I returned to my work. The work is menacing, and I almost thought I'd faint of exhaustion before I was even half-way done with the first field. Thankfully, Mitchell has secured the animals inside a makeshift fence when he came over and offered his help. Gratefully, I accepted it and told him to start at the other end, where we would meet in the middle.

Mitchell graced me with shoddy chitchat that I didn't care too much for. Although I responded and nodded my head where it was appreciated, I was more focused on the certain red-head on the barn roof. I felt my stomach swell with worry for both him and my father. What if they fall? I didn't want to witness that happening, since they were surely be badly injured. The barn was a very tall structure, bigger than our house, even. I tried to distract myself by humming a short ballad, but was stopped by Mitchell the ever-so-annoying musical critic.

Soon we all took a break from our work, my father and Roy included. I laid on my back in the grass, blocking the sun out using my father's hat. My back felt so good once I'd laid straight that I gasped with pleasure. If laying down felt this good after hours of weeding, I had to remind myself to do it more often.

I heard the shuffling of feet, and upon peeking from my hat, I saw Mitchell retreat into the house for the break. Unfortunately, I also saw Roy climb down from the roof by ladder only to approach me. I grimaced and pulled the hat over my face once more. Maybe if I pretended to be asleep he would go away and leave me be… Unfortunately, it was not to be. I felt his shadow encase my body and instinctively I tensed, giving myself away.

Biting my lip to restrain a sigh, I sat up from the ground and put the hat back on my head. Awkwardly Roy takes a seat on the ground next to me, almost too close, and I scoot over to the left. I'm at a loss for words. Again, talking was never my talent.

For the first time in a very long time, I heard his voice. "Hey…" He managed to mumble. His voice had matured as well; it was now deeper, and gravelly. My skin tingled. I could see and hear why my old female friends swooned.

I puffed out my cheeks and slowly released the air in a heavy, drawn-out breath before finally responding, "Hi." Of _course_ one word was the best I could do. If I had a newspaper right then and there I would've whacked myself for my foolishness.

A long silence followed, in which I was constantly reminded of my rude behavior in both the past and present. I wanted to apologize, but my lips could not form the words. I had string after string of well-prepared apologies running through my mind, but at that very moment none of them seemed like they would work. This wasn't at a festival, or a carnival. This was at my own house, practically in my own back yard and I hadn't prepared any apology for that situation.

Still, I tried, but my words came out a jumbled mess. "The other day, sorry, so sorry." I sputtered, the hamster in my brain frantically running the wheel in the wrong direction. I gulped down the tangled up sentences and began again. "_When _I ran away from you the other day…I shouldn't have, and I'm sorry." I repeated bravely, this time the words were conceivable.

Roy looked over to me and offered a weak upturn of the lips that I assumed was a half-smile. "No, it's okay. That isn't the worst thing you've done to me." He spoke, but at the end I watched as his expression quickly fell as if he regretted what he was saying. "I'm sor-"

This time I shake my head. "No, don't worry about apologizing. You're right." The words seem to be flowing out of me by now, and I turn to look at the rest of the field in need of a good weeding. "It isn't the worst I've done to you. Avoiding you like the plague is nothing compared to how I laughed in your face when we were kids." I reference his confession, which suddenly seems so fresh in my mind as if it was only yesterday when it happened.

At this he responded with a wave of dismissal by his hand. "We were just kids. I was young, and foolish. It was all just so stupid, if you think about it…"

I felt something sharp stab my heart at that moment. Did he mean to say he was an idiot for liking me? The thought sends a fresh fury throughout my body, and I'm prepared to dropkick him to the center of the earth when I quickly gain control of my emotions and calm down. It may have hurt, but I knew I deserved it. My pride may have been shattered, but it was least I could do for Roy after everything he's been through the past ten years. I just up and left Castanet with my family, not even bothering to tell Roy, my closest friend the day after he confessed.

When he noticed my lack of words, he quickly takes the reigns of our conversation. "You know what I mean, right? It was just a passing fancy, everyone has them… But it didn't ruin our friendship. I still want to be friends, Mary." His words were comforting, yet for reasons unknown, a secret part of me felt disappointed.

Still, I grinned. "That would be great. I really need someone to talk to around here." I explain, "Plus, I need someone to fill me in on what happened while I was away. So many things have changed." I stayed strong through my short little speech, whereas he merely nodded and turned his attention back toward the sky, once again allowing the silence to return. Apparently we weren't going to be the same level of friends as before, and that severely damaged me in a way I couldn't explain.

I took a deep breath in, preparing to continue the conversation. I was going to work this out with Roy, we were going to settle things so that life could go back to normal and we could all just forget. Unintelligently, I fondle the braid over my shoulder. "So, how have you been?" A sideways glance at his face told me nothing good.

Roy frowned and fell onto his back, hitting the grass with a light 'thump'. "Not too good…" He told me. He offered little explanation except that, "With Ramsey gone, things have become a little hectic at the blacksmith's. I don't think my father has accepted he's dead yet…"

I nod understandingly. "Do you think you're going to take over the place?"

Roy shrugs. "I don't know yet…maybe. I can't say it's what I really want to do, though. Metalwork is more my father's thing." I wanted to assure him that he's just as good, but I knew it would only sound fake and insincere.

I bit my lip nervously, still facing away from him. "I'm sorry about Ramsey, by the way." I said, offering my condolences. Even if he didn't accept now, I planned on going to the funeral with my family, and I'd see him there.

When I don't get a response I know he didn't want my pity. I got it, I understood. In the past few weeks all he'd probably been getting was pity, and he probably desired equality most. I relaxed on my back next to him, hands folded over my dirty yellow shirt as I looked into the sky. Our shoulders touched lightly and he tensed. Before I know it Roy has stood up from the ground. Quickly, I sat up and, perplexed, looked to him for answers.

"I should probably get back to work on the barn…have to have it done by nightfall…" Roy mumbled to me, quickly retreated to said barn. I reach a hand out in effort to stop him, to explain, but he strode so fast and I was too late.

"Oh, okay…" I mumbled in a hushed, unheard response. "I have some more weeding to do, anyways…" It was such a quizzical conversation that, as I continued with my back-breaking work, I replayed it over and over again in my mind.

Soon enough my father and Mitchell exit the house and begun to work again, Mitchell coming to my aid once more. I made a mental note to thank him one of those days. Not only did he help with the weeding, but he distracted my thoughts from Roy's puzzling behavior with light conversation. I didn't pay attention to most of what he had to say, but the very end of his rant stirred something inside of me.

"You know, I really don't think everyone has changed very much." Mitchell stated bluntly, struggling with a particularly nasty weed. To help him out I threw a small hand-shovel his way, which he uses to dig it out.

I shook my head in response. "You didn't know everyone like I did, your memories aren't the same as mine." I told him, pausing from my work to give him a skeptical look. "You were only six when we left. Everything was probably just a blur for you"

"Not true," he instantly cut in, offended. I felt a little bad, considering I always tended to use the two-year age difference against him. "That's so not true. I think I remember the Garmon Mine District pretty damn well."

My face contorted in disbelief and anger, which I quickly hid by forcing my face down to focus on the work. It wasn't his language that irritated me, it was his comment about the Mine. Had he actually been there before? I had always wanted to go there, but I had never been allowed. So why did my baby brother by two-years get to go? It angered me, and my hand clamped down on the nearest weed as I vigorously pulled it out. The annoying plant was airborne as I threw it to the side in attempt to calm down.

Out of habit I look to the barn roof, realizing that with all this conversation and weeding I have forgotten all about Roy. However once I laid my eyes on the roof, it had been patched and he was gone.


	3. When I went to a funeral

**I realize this won't be very popular, and I've come to accept that. After all, Harvest Moon is a very low-scale game, I doubt anyone whose played and loved Zelda would take any interest in this. Still, I'm going to write until the finish, because I love Harvest Moon and I have the most fun writing this than anything I ever had before.**

**So there. Also, the story is meant to be read in 1/2 or 3/4, just so you know.**

**I don't own Harvest Moon, yadda yadda yadda. Now to the good stuff.**

xXx

The following night my subconscious was free and clear from tenacious dreaming, giving me a very nice and long slumber. I felt calmer, knowing that things between Roy and I had smoothed out. I knew things would never be the same, but I was considerably glad we were still somewhat friends. Thus I slept happily, curled up in my blankets like Chex the cat.

The farming done that morning was minimal at best. Construction on the house was postponed until tomorrow, at first I was severely confused; I'd forgotten all about Ramsey's funeral. That in mind I made sure to do my work quickly before ten o'clock in the morning, at which time the official and formal mourning would start. Mitchell helped out some, but not a lot. Gardening was never his thing. Nonetheless, his help was appreciated.

Once done the whole house was running amok, busy to get ready and dress in black. Luckily for me, I still had a long, comfortable conservative black dress from Egypt. Unfortunately though, it was the only black thing I owned and I was bound to stick out. Nonetheless, I attempted to make it more modern by shrugging off the top layer overcoat, and replacing it with one of my mother's old shawls. The piece of fabric smelled of old wet dog. I nearly vomited.

With my hair up in a bun, we all left the house in a hurry. We bustled to the town, not even sending a glance at the ruined beach that we passed by. Somewhere along town we ran into Doctor Jin and his family, Jin's older relative Irene following closely behind. The older woman was obviously distraught, and held a ruined handkerchief close to her heart. She must have known Ramsey closely; for once I asked her whose the handkerchief was she responded, "Oh, it was just a gift from him. A passing fancy." For some reason I was hearing a lot of that term lately.

As my father liked to put it, we arrived at the funeral lickedy-split. Next to my family I took a seat far in the back. Personally, we were perhaps the only group of people who didn't know Ramsey all that well. While others sat teary-eyed and listening to Perry's strong and inspiration sermon, we held our heads down in respect. I believed the whole thing to be the result of our obvious disconnect with the people of Castanet. But hey, nearly a decade away will do that to a family.

The Church was bigger than I remembered, its vaulted ceiling were higher and rows of seats wider. The stained glass windows were beautifully done, despite how obviously weathered they were from the elements. On either side of where Perry stood at the front there were two stained glass windows that caught my attention. The window on the left depicted an unearthly man with bright oranges and gold. He looked sturdy but also appeared quite conceited with his hands on his hips. It was then I noticed his hair, long and winded, falling down to his feet, followed by his eyes. They were like mine, gold and speckled with orange. Like the woman in my dreams he wore a sort of toga, but it was a crème color.

It was then I noted the window to the right. In a flurry of misty blues and greens, I could just barely make out the woman from my dreams. What did she call herself…the Harvest Goddess? Well, she looked quite different in the form of a window than she did my dream. In the glass her face was etched to look unhappy and unfulfilled. I felt my heart stop for a split second, the whole situation was too uncanny. To suddenly see a window worshipping a Harvest Goddess that I dreamt about only a night ago? It had to be more than just a coincidence. Yet that didn't mean I believed what the woman said. There were no such things as Gods and Goddesses. There was always an explanation, like how I could've seen the window when I was a kid, and my return to Castanet triggered something in my memory.

Yeah, that was it…

I took my mind of the window and more to the funeral, at which it was time for the people to pay their respects. First came the family; Owen and Chloe, looked wretchedly unhappy, silently whispered to the casket, Chloe even reaching out to stroke the side of his face. Following them were Kathy and Roy. My eyes locked onto the side of Roy's head, and I strained to get a better look at his expression. From what I could tell, he was emotionless. He was a blank slate. Typical Roy and his boyish pride... It was okay to unravel at funerals, the Church was the only place my mother wouldn't devour gossipy material like hungry piranhas.

Other various village members came to pay their respects to Ramsey in his casket, last being an aging Irene. Her eyes were watery and red, something I hadn't noticed on the walk to the Church. Her graying hair was particularly loose and unraveled which was so unlike her. People knew Irene as being strong, but it was difficult to recognize that same courageous person when she looked so disheveled.

When the first part of the funeral was done, Roy's family was the last to get up and leave the Church. I desperately wanted to offer some comfort, but with our current shaky friendship and my bad socialization skills, there was no telling how things would go. Rather, I stayed with my family and left to step out into the courtyard in front of the church. It's decorated with various potted plants, some flowers I recognize from Marimba Farm.

My family went off to flaunt their decadent skills in speech, leaving me all alone to wander the courtyard. I found myself approached a bench not too far off, but far enough away I would go unnoticed. It was surrounding be trees and bushes alike, wildflowers emphasizing the bright green grass below. From the bench I got a good look at the courtyard and the people of Castanet. To think that right where they stood numerous weddings to mark a happy life happened in the same place where the life of one happy man ended.

There was a faint rustling of foliage behind me and I was quick to turn. Nervously, I clutched the edge of the bench with suspicion and leaned back, away from the trees. Quick, there! In the bushes, something was moving. I gulped, loudly. My feet were restless, preparing for a quick escape if things got too out of hand.

The rustling grew louder, until the whole bush was shaking. I felt my heart quicken, pumping faster than before. Surprises were not my thing, in fact every year I made a distinct effort to tell my family _not _to throw me a surprise party, since I was absolutely sure I'd only feint at the front door. Seeing this mysterious bush about to reveal whatever was behind it was just one of those surprises, and despite how I anticipated what might happen my whole body began to feel light. I sucked in the air, holding my breath. The seconds stretched perilously.

When, to my great shock, a black cat leapt out from behind the bush and sat there, licking its paws like it hadn't just scared my half to death. I quickly exhaled, all the air coming out shaky and disturbed. "Oh…just a cat…" I mumbled to myself, embarrassed by my own silliness. For a girl who praised herself as beyond her year, it was despicable how easily I was frightened. To calm myself I put one hand over my rapid chest, slowly turning back to face the courtyard, where I was suddenly spooked so badly I yelped and stumbled off the bench. I took shelter behind the bench.

Before my floated a small, fairy looking creature that smiled and waved, despite my defensive stance. Nope, this was definitely not a cute little cat. This little fairy wore a light yellow, nearly beige elf-looking outfit, including the pointed hat. His hair was green and looked wild under the hat, whereas his pallor was pale. His tiny wings fluttered on his back, keeping him up.

Okay…so maybe I was dreaming that morning. The only logical conclusion to this was, "God no, this has to be a dream!"

The fairy giggled at my words. "Not a dream, Anna. I've finally found you!" I perked my ears at the mention of my mother's name, noticing that my delusion was clearly mistaken. I was not Anna, I was Mary. Though the fairy was quick to notice my eyes, and instantly frowned. "Oh…wait…" He said in his high-pitched, squeaky voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, not Anna. She's my mother." I said knowingly, slowly tilting to the side to peer over the illusion's shoulder. My family was still over in the courtyard, solemnly conversing with the others. Nobody had yet to notice me, or the flying midget. Skeptically, I turned my attention back. Cautiously, I ask, "Hey, you're not real, are you?"

The tiny little creature frowned at me, zipping around in the air before me with his arms flailing. "Of course I'm real! You can see me, can't you?" Then he paused in the air, frozen. Something occurred to him, causing his face to figuratively glow like a lighthouse. "Wait…you can _see _me!" He mumbled to himself.

I narrowed my eyes. Things were just too freaky in this town. Quickly I took a few steps away from the bench and the fairy. I'd rather drown in failing conversation than let my imagination get away with this craziness. However, as I attempted to escape the fairy flew right up into my face for the second time, causing me to stumble a few steps back.

"You can see me," the fairy told me happily, spinning in the air. "Which means you can help me!"

It seemed this wouldn't end, and I decided that until it did, I would go along with it. "Oh, well, okay. Just one question, though," I told it, causing it to nod its head wildly in acceptance. Lowering my voice, I asked, "How did you know my mother, Anna?"

The sprite smiled heartedly. "That's easy, she can see me too!" His voice started out strong, but became a mumble within only a moment as he turned to face my mother, so far away, all grown-up. "Or at least…she could see me…" Something in the sprite's voice was saddening, and despite what an annoyance I found it to be, I wanted to smother it in a big bear-hug.

Suddenly he changed tune and perked up. "Will you help me, Anna's daughter?" He asked, flying down to grab one of my hands with his tiny ones and bring it up in a shake. I chuckled at the gesture, shocked at my own response. A genuine chuckle…good god what was this world coming to?

I sighed. Whatever I was "helping" with, I was sure it wouldn't be anything too big or adventurous. This guy was just a little sprite, after all. "Mary, my name is Mary." I told him plainly, adding, "And sure I'll help you."

The sprite bounded into the sky happily, floating back down in euphoria. I fought the urge to laugh at its undying cuteness. "My name's Finn." It told me, grinning to its tiny ears. "And boy, this is so exciting! First, we need to unlock the Watery Mines, then we need to go talk to the Harvest Goddess, then we-" Before I knew it Finn was off in a ramble of our extravagant quest, but his mention of the Harvest Goddess caused me to stop him with a raised hand.

"What about the Harvest Goddess? You can't be serious…" I told him, raising my eyebrows speculatively.

Finn crossed his arms, shaking his head in denial. "Surely you know of the Harvest Goddess. She lives in the trees next to the Garmon Mine district." Finn informed, widely gesturing to the mountain behind the Church. Again the Mines were brought up, and I scowled. I wasn't allowed to go up there, and when I planned on going there it wasn't going to be for a tiny quest. But I wasn't going to tell "Finn" that.

"Oh, okay." I mumbled in response, nodding my head. I was good at faking, almost too good. "Well, we can start on the quest after the funeral, 'kay?" I smiled at the creature before walking off, and I expected him to go back to the trees where I assumed he'd been hiding out. However, the small sound of fluttering wings told me he was following behind. A vein popped from my forehead.

She stopped and turned on the balls of her feet, facing Finn angrily. "Why are you following me? I told you, we'll do it later!" I barked. Finn was taken back ever so slightly, but quickly recovered from the assault.

"I have to follow you, Mary." Finn said calmly, "I'm your sprite now! Besides, I can't be sure that you'll help unless I follow you. And us sprites really need your help restoring the power of the ocean!"

Instantly I deadpanned. _Restore the power of the ocean_? That quest sounded much bigger than what I originally assumed. I coughed quietly, trying to form words. "I can't…can't do that…" I stuttered foolishly, "That's too much…more of Mitchell's thing."

Finn's face contorts to confusion. "Mitchell…?" He asked, but was quick to move on. "But Mary, you can see me, therefore you're destined to help me!" The sprite bounced in the air happily.

I shook my head rapidly. A quick glance around the courtyard told me people were starting to notice my outrage, but not Finn. Quickly I grabbed at Finn's tiny little arm and dragged him to the other side of the Church, the two of us hidden by the shadows. "Now listen here," I started off, "I'm not an adventurer. I don't restore power to oceans. My name is Mary. I'm a…guck, _farmer_, not a superhero. And I certainly don't want a midget like you following me around twenty-four-seven!" My chest heaved from the excursion.

Not seeming too offended, or even surprised, Finn merely smiled at me. "You've got such a spirit, Mary. No wonder your eyes are so fiery." Finn stopped there to scratch at his chin intently. The pause only angered me more. "You know, they kind of remin-"

I threw my hands up exasperatedly. "You know what! I don't care. Follow me around, whatever, you won't get any help from me!" I stomped away from the Church, Finn humming and following closely behind. It was going to be a long day, but I was positive that if I held up strong in ignoring Finn, he'd go away.

By then I'd decided that Finn was not a dream, could not be a dream. Everything he said was so specific, too specific for his own good. Not to mention that I wouldn't want it to be a dream, at some point in time Finn had known my mother, and if this were just a dream I would be awake by now, wondering. Thus it was reality, it _had_ to be reality. Albeit it was a sad reality in the shape of an annoyingly happy sprite, it still counted.

The fact Finn seemed determined to follow me around put me in a slump for the most part of the funeral. I attempted to replace my obvious distaste and unhappiness for the general sadness that the others there had, but I was hardly what one would call an "actress". To anyone it would have been obvious that something happened, but nobody asked. As they slowly lowered Ramsey's casket in the ground, the whole of Castanet was focused on him and only him. Perry may have spoken once or twice encouragingly, but all eyes were on Ramsey's body, all thoughts focused on his spirit and soul. At some point, even I became entranced by the ceremony and swept away by my own wondering thoughts and the hope that Ramsey was in a better place.

I noticed Irene again, standing awfully close to the casket. It was halfway into the ground when she stopped the ceremony, asking the priest for one favor. Without word she approached the casket and carefully laid her handkerchief from earlier on the dark ebony, light tears falling from her eyes. Inwardly I smiled at the gesture and she backed away to the crowd again. Somewhere in the sky I was sure Ramsey's spirit appreciated it.

The funeral was officially over late afternoon, when the sun was only an hour away from setting. I gathered with my family at the Church steps as we offered our condolences to Owen and Chloe, and even Irene. My mother took their hands gently, while my father would pat them lightly on the arms, occasionally roping them into a hug. Mitchell even responded nicely with a few kind words and a head nod. Yet, when it came time for me to say something my mouth went dry. Rather than doing anything I stared at the mourning family blankly, before the embarrassment finally sunk in and I retreated to my family… Again I had failed socially.

We were ready to leave the funeral when I spotted Roy, sitting on the same bench I met Finn on –who, as he promised, still hadn't flown away and left me alone to my own silence. I told my family to go on ahead, that I would follow right behind them. I watched them retreat down the steps of the courtyard, soon entering the business district and beyond. Cautiously I made my way to the bench. Roy noticed me soon enough and scooted over to make room, I gratefully sat next to him.

I had never truly experienced a death in the family, but I had been to enough Egyptian ceremonies to understand. Roy didn't want to talk now, or at least I assumed he didn't care. If a family member of mine died, I was sure I would have wanted silence and company. Thus, I sat next to him silently. Yet, with Roy talking was always involved, apparently.

"Thanks for coming," he mumbled lightly without making eye-contact. His voice was stronger than it had been the other day. Perhaps the funeral has put his worries to rest; just maybe the funeral had released him. Behind my Finn was buzzing near my shoulder, distracting me for just a moment.

I nod in response. "Anything you need, just tell me." And it was true, I meant it. We were still friends, he was still my buddy. Though I didn't think I'd need to do much for Roy, not only was he very self-sufficient in times of crisis, but he had never known Ramsey very well. Therefore this funeral, his death, was nothing but a very bleak memory of his parents and aunt.

Without much warning I felt something warm envelope my hand; Roy's hand. He held it gently, as if at first searching for my response. As a friend I responded by clutching his own. His hand was course from his work as an apprentice, but it was warm and comforting. For the first time I was able to put Finn's excessive appearances behind me, I could unwind. I had to admit, the feeling was nice.

I looked into Roy's face, soon meeting his eyes with my own. The feeling was electrifying; it sent shivers up my spin. Instinctively I let go, placing my hand back in my lap. He retreated as well, as we both turned our heads away. Call it awkward, or embarrassing, but it was definitely _something_. I almost hated myself for looking into his dark eyes, and feeling something intense enough to ruin my relaxing moment with him. Again I thought of what I had when I first saw him. He was far too attractive to be my friend. In spite of my bland personality I was still a girl, and I still swooned at handsome faces.

It was then a very upbeat personality joined us. I heard her before I saw her. She strode up to us confidently, her curly strawberry-blond ringlets bouncing. Dakota, daughter of Chase and Maya, smiled at us. A very odd thing to do at a funeral, considering…

"Hi Mary, Roy." She beams, turning to me specifically. "I haven't seen you in so long. I was going to say hi when your boat got here, but you ran off so quickly! If I would have known better, I would've thought you'd saw a ghost." She nodded her head. Good old Dakota, to bluntly point out the obvious, though I wasn't about to tell her that.

Taking a closer look at her, I noted just how much she had matured. Dakota, sweet, innocent Dakota, had grown more in some areas than others. Her body shape reminded me of Kathy, or Selena. Tiny waist, with wide, tapered hips and long legs. I felt a pang of jealousy, I was so incredibly average. Damn Castanet, its whole population radiated with grace, elegance, and strength while I gave off dishonesty and bleakness.

Then, however, Dakota turned away from me and to Roy. Instantly she engaged him in a conversation I couldn't follow, one I wasn't here to witness. She exuberantly went on about the most recent Animal Festival and pushed me aside to sit between us on the bench. Her back was turned to me, tuning me out, as she gave all her attentions to the distraught Roy. I grimaced.

Perhaps Dakota wasn't as innocent as I preciously assumed.

Either way, I wasn't about to sit there and be ignored. (Plus, let's face it, I would rather dress up like a rotting tortoise corpse than listen to one more obnoxious word she had to say.) I waved goodbye to the duo as I left, getting an almost too happy grin from Dakota and a wave from Roy. It was discerning how girls seemed to flock to Roy. How could I be his friend if I never got to talk to him?

I shook my head at the thought. I wasn't supposed to be friends with him, at least considering how hard it would be to single him out time-wise. With my busy mornings, his hectic afternoons, and the endless line of Castanet girls who swooned when he walked past, there was no chance of a friendship… Yet, I didn't want to give up hope. I remembered the good old days of our chubby adventures, and I wanted those days back.

Finn was eager to ask questions about Roy, and Dakota, and my relationship, but I waved the sprite off easily. I wasn't ready to answer his questions or talk about it, at least not when I didn't completely know the answers myself. Besides, I was ignoring Finn anyways. I wanted him to go away, since acknowledging his presence would land me a spot in the insane asylum. I was the only one who could see him, apparently. I could only imagine how it would look if I talked to him in public, where to everyone else it would appear I had a new imaginary friend. Oh no, that wouldn't be good for my image.

I scowled at my own thoughts. I had no image.

I entered the business district soon enough, and passed by the Clinic when I spotted an old friend. The male was currently walking away from the pier, and towards the bridge that led to Clarinet district when I ran in front of him, stopping him.

"Matt!" I said ecstatically, pulling him into a hug without getting a good look at him. I was too overcome with my happiness at seeing him. "I've been looking for you!" I half-lied to him, since at the funeral I was a little preoccupied with a certain yellow-elf-costume-wearing sprite.

I pull away and finally see how he's grown. Matt is much taller now, almost six foot I'd bet. Like the rest of us he's dressed in all black, and his sandy hair is swept back with some kind of jell. Make it a black and white movie and he'd make the perfect mafia member. Though I don't vocalize that thought, Matt was never as welcoming to my crude humor as Roy was.

"Hey Mary," he muses, grinning. "Sorry I wasn't there to welcome you back, I was kind of held up with some stuff." He rubs the back of his head nervously.

I was tempted to ask just what "stuff" he was talking about, but I didn't. It wasn't any of my business. I waved of his apology. "No, it's okay. I didn't stay there long."

"Yeah, I heard." He suddenly blurted out, causing me to freeze. My face fell. How fast did the news of my nervous escape travel? Quickly he noticed my discomfort and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, dragging me off to the Clarinet District. "Ah, it's not such a big deal. Everyone runs away from Roy eventually. He's kind of intimidating, if you ask me…"

Matt released me and I quirked a brow. Intimidating wasn't the best word to use. More like bipolar, considering the whiplash his mood changes could give a person. Either way, I didn't focus on Roy too much in the conversation. "So, are you walking me home?" I asked Matt.

Matt shrugged, digging his hands in his pockets. "You'd think I would, since I'm going the same direction. And if I did we'd have some time to catch up." He winked.

Nodding I shrugged like a very bad 80's actress. "Well, a girl can dream." He laughed and I smiled proudly. "So, why were you at the pier?"

"I don't know if my parents told you, but…" He stopped to get my response and I looked to him clueless. "Well, I want to become a boat captain like Pascal." His eyes practically glowed when he mentioned his dream. The sea had always attracted Matt, it was kind of a no-brainer that he'd enter the boating career. "I was just talking to Pascal about possible boat lessons. I mean, I know the basics, but I really want to learn more."

Good old Matt, out of everyone he had always been so ambitious. He always had a dream firmly implanted in his mindset, and like a good soldier he strived for it. Even now I could see his determination, stronger than it ever had been, in the glint of his eye, or the steady tone of his voice. I was happy for him, truly, just jealous that I had yet to realize my dream. It seemed every one of my old friends had some kind of future waiting for them, while I had nothing.

Unfortunately, Matt was never the brightest or most perceptible when it came to me. Without knowing my feelings, he asked, "So, what do you want to do?" I knew he wasn't talking about when I got home, or while we walked, but for the future. He was curious about my goals and aspirations, something that I had no gusto for.

Weakly, I offered a very forced smile. "I was thinking that I might…" I paused, truly thinking. Though I had no clue, and said the very first thing that came to mind. "…that I might take over the family farm." I mentally kicked myself, farming was the last thing I wanted to do. It was plan Z, as in I never planned to get to it.

Unexpectedly, Matt boldly laughed. The male stopped in his tracks, grinning. "Really?"

Naturally, I was offended. "What? What is so funny?"

He shrugged, beginning his nonchalant stride once again. "It's nothing," he mumbled, "just that you don't look like the farming type. That's more of your brother's thing."

I sighed. It was true, Mitchell (though he didn't exactly do it happily) was more of a farmer than I would ever be…not that I wanted to be, of course. I crossed my arms, allowing some silence to seep in before I asked, "So what type do I look like?"

I was so focused on the road ahead that I didn't notice his lasting stare. "With eyes like those, you could do anything."

Personally, I found it humorous and snorted my mangled laugh. "I really doubt my eyes have anything to do with my future, Matt."

He shook his head. "No, it's true. I can't explain it, but ever since we were young those eyes gave you some kind of boost. People really liked you; they sort of gravitated towards you."

"You're too good at flattery, you know that?" I mumbled. By now we could see the family farm just up ahead.

He sighed heavily, leaning his neck to look at the sky. "I'm being completely serious." He mused.

"Oh really?" I countered, stopping by the fence that surrounded our land. I raised my eyebrows, before continuing, "How come you weren't so 'smitten' with me like you make the others seem, then?"

Matt chuckled, beginning his walk back to the town. "Because," he called over his shoulder with a lazy wave, "I thought you were conceited. Full of sh-"

"Yeah, I get it!" I yelled back irritatingly, waving my hands in effort to push him away faster. Darn Matt always had a way of making bad situations better. He was truly the brother I never had. Contentedly, I watched him leave before opening the fence and treading back inside my home.


	4. When I had friends

**I do not own Harvest Moon, and this fanfiction is purely fictional. Ya happy? *muttermutter***

**Thank you so much for all the encouragement I'm getting! I'm so glad to know that my fic isn't going by completely unnoticed! I started writing this chapter a day early, all because your wonderful reviews inspired me! All the positive criticism is great to my esteem.**

**Yes, I do have trouble staying in past tense, for those of you that have noticed. It's mainly because I write these chapters late at night. I'm so swamped during the day that the only time to write is after 9 o'clock.**

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><p>You'd think having a magical sprite hang around you 24-7 would make you, heck, I don't know, <em>luckier<em>. With Finn buzzing around my life, I thought that maybe he might bring some good with him. Like, gosh…maybe my family could win the lottery? Or the waters would clear up so I could get on Pascal's boat and sail my way back to Egypt? I had hoped that good things would follow mine and Finn's trail, but oh, it turned out of was very wrong.

With Finn around, things only got worse. The ocean was becoming increasingly rough. Pascal had to tie his boat down with some new, "indestructible" rope he spent a good chunk of his savings on from a magazine (needless to say, I didn't think anything from a magazine would last very long). Chex got sick, and aside from my daily chores I had to nurse my dear cat back to health. My family wasn't any help. While my mom was busy with our financials, and my father with re-exploring the Garmon Mines, and Mitchell who was slowly becoming the town's Funny-man-Casanova hybrid, I was the only one available to help poor Chex out.

In a few days Chex got better, at least to the point that he could finally meow again. Finn was no help, at all. I'm sure he was only trying to be nice while expressing his condolences for my cat, but _expressing _and _screaming _them were two different things. Day and night I had to listen to Finn's zealous stories of cat restoration and how sorry he was this had to happen. After the first day I tuned the sprite out altogether.

Aside from the ocean's uncanny behavior (yet another thing Finn tortured my earlobes with), my family worked very hard on our house…or rather, _Roy _worked very hard. My father, on the other hand, was far to enrapture in the spec of diamond he'd unearthed in the mines hours prior. Luckily for us, Roy is a good friend and a fast worker. Come to think of it, he didn't even need my father's help on our house. He was the type of man who was capable to do it without assistance, all by himself.

I woke up that particular morning feeling much better than I had a few days ago. Chex was getting better, and with that Finn had quieted down –I was grateful to Finn, for once since his new silence eased my booming headache.

Again I got dressed in my mother's old work clothes. That part of the morning was relatively uneventful. While Chex was off stretching on my sheets, I took the liberty of waking Mitchell up via my old stuffed anteater "Smelly". Needless to say, he didn't like that very much. In the end Mitchell and I got into one, long argument which forced our father to intervene and keep the peace.

"Shh!" He told us, looking out into the main room wearily. "Don't wake up your mother!" He shut our bedroom door, making a gesture out to the other side. "If you two keep this up, could you at least be considerate and strangle each other _in silence_." Behind my shoulder, Finn was aghast.

I, however, was unaffected. It figured things would go like this. We loved our mother, but only on the days she got a good night's rest. Thus, the rest of the morning Mitchell and I fought in a hushed silence, straining ourselves so much veins protruded from our foreheads.

The two of us left the house after mother woke up and made breakfast…for herself. I guess, being semi-adults we were responsible for our own breakfast. When we asked her why, she snidely snorted and said, "Naughty children who wake their mama up don't get any breakfast."

Yikes.

I intended to avoid my mother for the rest of the day, and act like a good girl. After half a piece of toast I was out on the farm, ready to work with my gloves pulled up high. Mitchell separated to go into the barn. Just for kicks I look at the barn, now fixed. The gaping whole in the roof had been covered up seamlessly, and the sides of the building had even been redone. Roy's handiwork was impressive.

I turned back to look at our house, and the cement foundation branching off of its side. That was going to be my room, apparently. For once my father was working, carefully nailing some of the framework together. I smiled mischievously.

"Hey Pa!"

My outburst was so uncharacteristic that he was shocked, and his attention shot my way as he brought the hammer down on –no, not the nail- his _finger_. He howled, I laughed. _That was for this morning, _I thought to myself, pleased.

On the house's second floor there was Roy, standing on the roof and installing a window to my brother's future bedroom. Luckily he'd heard me and looked over to offer a gentle wave. I responded with my own flopping mess of a wave, before we both went back to our own work. My eyes lingered on him for a brief second… The breeze ruffled his red hair so nicely…

My work looked at me menacingly. Three whole fields, only one of them had been ridden of its weeds. The other two were still plenty full of them. Still, it was natural. We hadn't farmed on this land for years… Sighing I started with watering the plants we already had growing on the first field, then moved on to laying down the fertilizer and the seeds we'd only bought yesterday. I'd convinced my brother to go buy the seeds that day. With Chex's unexplained illness, I hadn't exactly been in the mood to face Taylor, his weird eyes, and his loud girlfriend Chloe again.

"That was cruel," Finn suddenly spoke up as I was patting down the soil where I'd just planted some tomatoes.

I looked at him peculiarly, moving on with the next batch of seeds. "I don't know what you're talking about," I responded innocently; though I had a hunch.

Finn pursed his tiny sprite lips at me. "Nu uh! You know what I mean!" He said childishly. "What you did to your father wasn't nice!"

Ah, I see. I gave the sprite a questioning and bored look. "You know he deserved it. He's been slacking off on the house recently…"

Crossing his arms, Finn bit his lip. "You have been too, you know." With one long movement, he gestured to the other two fields that I had yet to weed.

With the sun bearing down on me and Finn's high-pitched, whiny voice my headache returned. I groaned. Adjusting my father's hat on my head, I ignored Finn and went back to my business. I knew he was right, but I wasn't about to acknowledge it. After all, _Finn _wasn't the one who had to weed just barely less than two acres of land.

After a long pause where Finn just sort of floated around my shoulder, he quickly appeared in front of my face. "So?" He suddenly asked, sinking down to the soil to look up at me with eagerness. Oh, great…I knew where this was going.

I shrugged and gently pushed Finn's tiny body aside, away from my work. "So what?"

"You know what, Mary! When are you going to speak to the Harvest Goddess!" Finn barked. Out of habit I shushed him and looked around wearily for any eavesdroppers. (Of course there were none; Finn was freaking invisible to anyone but me. Lucky them.)

"Don't talk about _Her_." I told him, suspiciously taking a second glance. "Nobody believes in that stuff here. It makes you sound crazy."

"Aw, but Mary, she's the Harvest Goddess! The great HG! Mrs. Nature!" Finn praised, clasping his hands over his arm and twirling in the air. "It's the first step of our mission. I need to introduce the two of you… Well, more like introduce you, since she's already met _you_."

I had a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. He couldn't possibly be talking about… "The dream? You know about that?" I asked.

Finn giggled. "O'course I do! I was there! Didn't you see me in the mist?"

I clenched my jaw, feeling violated. "You were in my dreams?" I seethed. That was one of the most private, sacred places I had. "_You were in my dreams?_" I repeated.

Obviously, Finn missed my anger. He twiddled with his fingers disappointingly, as if I wasn't currently steaming. "Well, sure… But at the time I didn't know you were you. I thought you were Addison. No wonder you didn't see me!"

Again, there we went, comparing me with my mother. Out of irritation I impaled the soil with my hand shovel and sat back on my ankles. I gazed up into the blazing sun, my hat falling off and hitting the soil with a dull 'thud'. "UGH!" I growled, running both hands down my face. My life was so complicated.

Finn gave me a second to cool down, thankfully. If he spoke one more time I would've tried to rip his talkative lips right off his face. My fuse was far too short for this job. Why couldn't Finn have chosen someone laid-back, like Mitchell? Or Matt? At least they would have been more patient with the poor sprite.

"Ooo! You've got company!" Finn suddenly squealed, pointing towards the road to Harmonica Town.

I glanced over my shoulder, letting my hands fall to my side when I saw Vivian approaching. She looked…happy. Vivian had a smile the size of Mars on her face, from one ear to the other. She was wearing overalls, but like her usual fashionable self she made them look attractive when paired with a belt and a polka-dot bandana on her head. From the way she held a bucket to her side filled with gardening tools, and her unorthodox attire, I had the inkling that she wanted to help me.

She waved ecstatically, which for someone like her was just two meager movements with her fingers. Nonetheless, it was something. I was just shocked she was actually _outside _on a sunny morning like this. Vivian was so adamant about staying pale and untouched by the sun's rays, not to mention she hadn't ever farmed a day in her life.

"Hi Mary." She said when she was in earshot. Vivian was squinting her eyes from the sun, giving me the impression she was glaring at me. To counter it she smiled.

I blinked, was she really here? "Uh…hi Vivian." I mumbled, completely caught off guard by her appearance. Especially since I didn't shower that morning, and my greasy loose hairs were sticking to the sides of my face. She didn't seem to notice.

"I thought I'd, uh, come and help…" Vivian said blandly, kneeling down in the soil next to me. She put her bucket to her right, coincidentally where Finn was hovering. The sprite, to keep from being squished, flew the other way. The sheer closeness of the interaction caused me to worry ever so slightly, and my eyebrows rose worriedly.

She noticed this, though. "Is something the matter?" She asked.

Quickly I shook it off. "No, nothing. I'm fine. Just, uh, a little surprised." I told her.

She nodded her head. "I see." She looked to my portion of the field that I'd planted, where the roots of begonia were beginning to sprout. "Gosh, those will be so pretty. Flowers are so nice this time of year."

I glanced to the flowers. "Yeah, I guess. I've never really been impressed with them, honestly…" I shrugged, an idea flickering in my head. Quickly, I looked back to Vivian. Enthusiastically, I began, "You should see the flowers they have in Egypt. They're so beautiful, and strong too, since they have to absorb extra water during the dry seasons."

A smile grew on Vivian's face, and it was so natural and beautiful I felt an ugly green monster inside my heart, yearning for that smile. "Really?" She asked.

"Oh, yeah." I said happily, returning to the work. I continued to gush about Egypt and my garden of flowers and rare berries as I worked with the tomatoes. I was so enveloped in the story that I hadn't noticed how clueless Vivian was looking at her tools until I paused to take a breather. My earlier guess had been right: Vivian hadn't gardened, ever. I sighed at my friend and helped her out, getting her started with digging small holes to put more seeds.

While we worked, Vivian meekly explained herself. "You know, the real reason I came here wasn't to garden…heh." She nervously scratched near the collar of her undershirt. "I love the flowers and all…but I only like looking at them. I just thought…Oh, I don't know. Just that you're so busy, that helping you is the only way we could hang out." Vivian sighed at herself. "Must sound so ridiculous, huh?"

("Friendship isn't ridiculous!" Finn chimed in.) I shook my head. "No, it's not ridiculous."

"You've been so busy. With your cat, and your farming, and your boyfriend…" Vivian mumbled, catching me off guard.

"_What_?" I rebounded, face contorted with fury and confusion. The shovel fell out of my palm, which was slowly inching towards my hair to nervously braid it.

Vivian's eyes became wide. "Oh- Uh, " she stuttered nervously, biting her lip. "It's n-nothing. Nope. Nothing. Just a rumor." She avoided my gaze by diligently carving out her already perfect hole in the soil.

I had been back home for less than a week, and already they were spreading rumors. I expected as much for a group of eight-year-olds, but for young adults? Hell, this was ridiculous! "What's the rumor, Vivian?" I asked forcibly, my lip twitching. I had to remind myself not to scream; this wasn't Vivian's fault.

By now Vivian was becoming so nervous; her speech was stuttered and near-incoherent. "W-well, Dakota saw y-you walk i-i-into Marimba Fa-farm the other day…and a-a-after you walked in, Chloe st-st-stormed out. She looked r-real crazy-y."

Oh…_Dakota_. She was proving to be quite a big thorn in my side. I went back to my work, stabbing at the soil mercilessly. "So what?" I asked, fuming, "They think I broke Chloe and Taylor up, don't they? They think I'm some scarlet!" The temptation to chuck my shovel at the nearest shipping bin was so very attractive.

"I don't think Dakota would h-have thought that if…if…well…"

"If what!" I shouted out, turning so abruptly plants around my knees were uprooted. I grabbed Vivian's shoulders, prepared to shake the girl. "If what, Vivian?"

She gulped. "Well…if yours and his eyes weren't so…_abnormal_."

Eyes. Eyes. _Eyes. _Why did it always come down to my freaky eyes? And why did one ocular commonality suddenly pin Taylor and I together as a couple? First of all, I hardly knew him. Second of all, he was much older and my parents would never approve. Even so, Dakota would never piece these things together. She was as irrational and random as her mother, Maya, but deadly snobbish like her father, Chase.

For a while, we did our work in silence. I had released Vivian, and was sulking in my own corner of the field. My differences were always starting things up, especially when it came to Dakota. People seemed to treat my eyes so alien-ish, which in turn alienated my whole being. Made me feel isolated, which I was completely justified to feel, might I add. None of the other kids fell into the ocean one summer day with brown eyes and emerged with orange. My parents had been so shocked by the change. (That is, after my father dove in and rescued my drowning ass, performing CPR.)

The sun rose higher into the sky, signaling it was now noon. Mitchell had herded up, brushed, and fed the animals by now and was on his way over to us. Once there, he flirted ruthlessly with Vivian, who was so quiet and uncomfortable that hardly responded. It was flat-out weird. I could have sworn that, despite their age difference, she was actually responding _positively _to my brother's efforts; as if she actually liked it!

GAH!

After a few scornful remarks on my part, Mitchell eventually stopped and assisted us with the gardening work. He wasn't as much as a hopeless cause for a farmer as Vivian was. He'd farmed with me a few times before, and was slowly becoming a natural. Inwardly I scowled, at this rate farming would be yet another thing he would excel and beat me at.

We managed to finish the first lot. Shockingly, things went much faster when you had two other people working with you. The three of us stood at the edge of field, wiping our hands together. I adjusted my hat to block the sun, and Mitchell took off his gloves, while Vivian merely wiped the sweat off her face. We were all fairly proud of our work.

"Nice work, team." Mitchell praised, relentlessly clapping me on the back. Apparently, since we were siblings, he had the right to be abusive.

I gasped before seething sarcastically in response, "Oh, yeah. Totally bro." I stomped my foot down on his. We were not his team. He only came to help the last hour of it, while Vivian and I had been there since the early morning. It was now two o'clock.

Speaking of Vivian, she seemed enraptured by Roy and my father's work on the house. "They sure are getting that done quickly, and working really hard." She commented, impressed.

I nodded, but rather than both I was only focused on one. "Hard is an understatement." I mumbled, more towards referencing the abs of steel Roy had acquired in my absence. I may have been a downright unpleasant person sometimes, but I was still attracted to the same things my female friends were.

Vivian seemed to get it too. "Oh definitely." She mused as the two of us gazed at Roy. I felt my brow twitch, for some reason annoyed at her sudden interest in Roy.

Mitchell was clueless to our ulterior motives and spoke up, "So, are you going to return to help out, Vivian?" He asked, leaning over to look at Vivian at my side.

She quickly snapped out of it. "Oh, uh, yeah. This was fun."

I was grateful for her saying that. Taking care of two acres was much different than a tiny six feet by three feet plot in Egypt. Until I got the hang of things, and adjusted my work to a timed tempo, I needed the extra hand.

I turned my eyes away from Roy and looked to the distance, specifically at pond on the other side of the road by the house. I looked towards Mitchell, and then Vivian with my eyebrows raised. "…You wanna…?" I continued to gesture towards the pond with my head.

Soon enough, they both got the message, and nodded enthusiastically. Naturally, Mitchell and I turned it into a race, as we both got into starting positions. Vivian, not to be left out, joined in. "On the count of three," Mitchell started, "…one."

I added in, "two."

Vivian smiled mischievously and said, "three!"

It was as if the striped official had blown the horn. The three of us were off so fast that the grass was either swayed or torn out in our wake. At first Mitchell had the upper hand, but within moments I overtook him by a running leap. Vivian, however, was the true victor. She was the first to pass us both and run to the pond's edge, kicking her shoes off and dipping her feet in the pond. I ended up being last, followed by the unnoticed Finn.

When I finally sank my toes in the refreshing water, we were all laughing from the effort and exhaustion. It felt good. I hadn't been so happy in a very long time. With the calming water surrounding my toes, and the company of my brother and what seemed to be my closest friend, I felt complete. Relaxed, I allowed myself a good, hearty laugh, Finn joining in the fun by hovering on my shoulder.

I was genuinely happy, even when Mitchell decided to be a wise guy and splash water on Vivian and I with his feet. Naturally, we responded with our own kicks. The three of us splashed and laughed until our stomachs hurt, and soon enough I was doubled over, holding my aching belly yet still the victim of torrid laughter. I felt one of the largest, most uncharacteristic smile rise up onto my face during those few short moments of utter bliss.

There was an obvious, resounding clunk in the air, causing my smile to fall. A cry of distress boomed, until we all heard something fall to the surface with a heavy 'thump'. My eyes went wide, at first worried for my father. But when I turned to look at the house, he was standing upright and walking to the real source of the noise:

Roy, sprawled out on the thin spring grass, clutching his right arm.

xXx

Whatever happiness might have been born within the hour was immediately shot down when Roy fell off the roof. My father and I rushed to aid, followed by our mother who'd heard the commotion from inside the house. Mitchell stayed at home and Vivian left with my father and I to take Roy to the clinic. His arm looked bent out of shape…I was frightened by it.

Scared, even.

We put Roy on one of our horses and led it into town. The whole way Roy did nothing but wince in pain, in turn making me bite the inside of my gums and curl my hands into fists. I didn't like seeing Roy in pain like this. He was hardly in a condition to talk much. Not only did his arm hurt, but his finger was swelling up like a balloon and he was limping. (I suspected, like my father, he had hit his finger with the hammer, which in turn caused him to fall. Why, though, was unknown and I certainly didn't assume. Roy was usually such a hard, and diligent worker. It was hard to think he would be easily distracted.

Making it to the clinic, my father was a crutch for Roy as they entered the building. Hurriedly, Vivian left to talk to her father and ask him to contact Roy's parents. I was left to rope the horse up to the building. My hands were shaking so fast I could hardly get a good grip on the knot, and several times the rope fell right out of my palms. I noticed I was sweating, too. This type of emotion was so new to me; I had no name for it. Anxiety? Either way I was deathly worried for Roy.

He had looked so helpless, lying in the grass like that… It wasn't him, not the Roy I knew. Quickly after tying the final knot I ran into the Clinic, I needed to confirm that Roy was okay. In the end, Anissa ushered my father and I to wait on a few chairs by Irene while she and Jin worked on Roy.

Just the fact she said "worked on" sent shivers up my spine. _What, like an experiment? _I thought nervously.

It felt like eternity until Doctor Jin finally pulled opened the door and emerged. He smiled at us. I was sitting on the edge of my seat, ready to pounce if Jin said something I didn't like.

The man was aged, and different from what I remember. As a child, I had always seen Jin as so easy-going and relaxed. Yet the years had taken their toll on Jin. His hair, although still very long, was graying behind the ears. Distinct bags were forming underneath his eyes, and when he smiled there were obvious creases on either end of his lips. It was different from my father, who despite being older than Jin had neither graying hair nor noticeable wrinkles. ("It's the power of positive thinking!" He would say in response to that, but we all know the truth; it's his ego and those 'secret' crèmes I found in the bathroom cupboard occasionally.)

Jin had a clipboard in his hand, and upon sight of us he let it fall to his side. "Ah, it's so nice to see you, Mary, Calvin, but under such unfortunate circumstances." He said to us, offering a weak smile. Oh, yes doctor, grace us with your phony presence. I was in no mood for chit-chat.

My father, on the other hand, had a lot longer tolerance for patience. "Great to see you too," he responded as he got off his chair to shake Jin's hand, the whole interaction felt forced, as both men had a commonality in their past. Being in the town a few days, I had begun to learn more and more about the men of Castanet. Some of which had dated my mother, very briefly, before my father -but this man, Mr. Serious? I couldn't imagine my mother dating Jin…but I supposed it was a possible. She could be quite "bland" and "serious" sometimes as well.

"Well, it looks like…" Jin stopped to take his hand back and use it to flip the clipboard back into view. He scanned the pages through his glasses, before returning to us. "Roy should be fine. With a few painkillers, he should be able to sleep soundly through the night. But I'll be keeping him overnight, just to make sure he doesn't have a concussion." Jin informed, earning a sigh of relief from me in particular.

He then looked to me specifically, eyebrows furrowed. "Normally I wouldn't let you see him until his parents got here…but…I suppose he is eighteen…" Jin weighed the legalities in his head, before finally adding, "Well, I see no harm in it. Mary, you can go ahead and see him now. Anissa should be in there as well. And Calvin, I'm assuming you're here for moral support, right?"

Thus some long, boring, adult conversation between my father and Jin ensued. I didn't care. I rushed into the room without hesitation.

Roy was laid up in bed, the only thing separating his back from the cold wall being a thin pillow. His right arm was in a cast, and one of his ankles had been wrapped. Again, a sigh of relief. For some reason I had expected to see so much worse. This was beyond my imagination, in a good way.

When Roy saw me he didn't smile. Rather, he turned his head away as to not face me. I furrowed my brows. This wasn't the reaction I expected at all. Anissa, whom I now noticed to my left, was the only one to smile at me. She looked worn, just like her husband. The source behind her weariness was off to her side, her son Van. I scoffed. What was that jerk doing here?

"Oh, Mary. I knew you would come." Anissa commented, coming to my side to put her hand on my shoulder and give a welcoming half-hug. She looked to Roy, pointing a finger at him. "See, I told you she'd be here. Mary, you wouldn't believe this boy." At the latter half Anissa turned back to me.

I smiled in response. Socialization, again, was not my thing. Gently I separated myself from Anissa. "Van," I said in acknowledgement to her son, politely.

The boy, only a year older than me, rose his eyebrows high behind his glasses. He was sitting in an armchair, a book cradled in his hands. He curtly nodded in my direction, before turning back to his book. I had never particularity fancied Van, for he always acted like such a know-it-all, or at least that's how I saw him. Other children had appreciated his intellect and dry humor more than I did.

I turned to Anissa yet again. "Is there anyway I could talk to Roy alone?" I bravely asked. It wasn't that I had an surprising revelations to make, I just felt more comfortable if Van and Anissa weren't staring into the back of my skull. Those two were such very big eavesdroppers.

Anissa grinned mischievously, and quickly ushered her son out of the armchair and towards the door. All the while, she called out to me happily, "Oh, I don't see why not. I'm not even needed here, really." She covered up Van's protests with happy laughs. I knew I could safely assume that she thought Roy and I was a couple. There was something about dating that excited the older ladies of Castanet. Their preoccupation with courtships, marriage, and grandchildren was so…annoyingly similar to the Egyptians.

The door shut behind Anissa and Van, and I instinctively relaxed. Pulling up a chair to Roy's bedside, I sat down, examining his injuries. The cast on his arm looked heavy and uncomfortable, once again bringing my mind to how this had all happened.

"You really scared us, you know?" I told Roy, playing with my fingers in my lap. Topics like this, personal topics, were never a big forte between the two of us.

Roy shrugged, which seemed like a big effort considering his cast. "It's nothing. Stuff like this happens all the time. The risk of being the carpenter/miner/blacksmith I've always dreamt of." He said sarcastically.

I smirked. "You still haven't decided on anything yet?" I raised my eyebrows, and playfully said, "you such probably get to work on that. You're already eighteen." Roy, in turn, looked to me like I was a crackpot. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head, once again gazing away. His eyes were intently focused on the window. "I just thought you'd have forgotten my birthday, is all."

Outrageous! Stupendous! Completely and one-hundred percent true! If it hadn't been for Jin skillfully mentioning his current age, I wouldn't have known it was only a month ago. "I'm sorry I missed it," I added it.

"Nah," Roy responded artfully, "what's one birthday to nine, you know?" He paused to look at me and offered a fleeting smile.

I nodded apologetically. Roy and I had already been over this. I was sorry, but my absence was unavoidable. So to avoid any further discussion, I changed the subject with, "So how did you fall off the roof anyways? You're usually such a focused worker."

To my surprise, a light blush rose on Roy's cheeks before it was forced back down. It was so quick, that if I would have blinked I would've missed it completely. Like a "real" man, Roy waved it off with his free hand. "Things happen, you know. I misjudged my own strength, is all. Hit my hand. Lost my balance…you know."

I shook my head. "No way. Roy, the epitome of fitness, misjudge your own strength? I don't buy it." I told him.

Roy frowned. Mournfully he responded, "Well it's true."

Something about the subject bothered Roy, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Sadly, I knew the topic irritated him, so I dropped it. Perhaps when he was better I would bombard him with the subject. I was desperate to know, since not only had he actually incited worry in me, but he'd disturbed one of my few "happy" moments.

"So what's the word?" I asked, gesturing to his arm and ankle. After all, the only medical thing I remembered Jin saying was 'concussion', and that was hardly comfortable.

"Just a broken right arm, and a sprained ankle." Roy educated, lifting his constricted arm up ever so briefly. He looked at his cast blandly. "This is going to make it hard to work on your house…"

I narrowed my eyes. "You can't be serious? After this big fall off my roof, you still want to come back and work?" I countered, earning a blank look on Roy's part. I sighed. "No, I won't allow it. You're not working until you're fully recovered."

Frowning, the teen visibly scowled. Apparently his work was more important to him than I had originally thought. Even so, that was the end of that topic. Something else overtook Roy's face other than the disappointment of my harsh sentence. After a brief pause, something interesting lit up his features.

Roy looked to my eagerly and spoke. "When I get out of this, I kind of want to go on an adventure."

I felt Finn perk up somewhere in the room, but I ignored it. "What? Like our childish journeys of exploring the limits of Horn Ranch's Barn?"

Disappointedly, Roy went on, "of course not. I'm talking about something bigger, like going to a part of Castanet we haven't been to before… Or maybe leaving Castanet altogether. Just a little something to occupy my time."

The thought of Roy leaving Castanet was outrageous. _Nobody _left Castanet, my family being the only exception to the otherwise rock-solid rule. I gaped at Roy, jaw hanging on the floor. "You can't be serious," I mumble to him. "A small adventure is one thing, but leaving Castanet? You wouldn't know what to do once you got off Pascal's boat."

Roy leaned forward on his bed. "That's why I'd have you with me," he told me expectantly, his eyes shining. My face fell at this, the notion of leaving Castanet for the second time. Of course, this time (providing I even considered his outrageous offer) would be different. I would be leaving Castanet willingly.

I shook my head. "No, no. We can't leave. That would be running away from our families." Nervously, I began to play with my hands in my lap while Roy sat back in his bed, rejected. His shot-down expression curbed some sympathy from me, and I continued, "but tell you what, I'll find us an incredible adventure _on _Castanet. You can count on it."

Before Roy and I could talk much more his parents rushed in, Kathy first with a pallor and worry lines framing her forehead, followed by his calmer father, Owen. I took that as my cue to leave, and I ducked under Kathy's outstretched arms and to the door, only hesitating to get one last look at Roy. Unfortunately, he didn't seem me. His parents were smothering him with love. It was obviously time for me to take my leave.

Unbeknownst to me, Roy was watching me the whole time, from when I first entered the room to when I left.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	5. When I posed as a photographer

**I have been gone for a while, I know. Life kind of pushed me and then kicked me while I was down. But I'm back. As of right now I've plotted nearly ten chapters ahead in this story, and I'm excited to write it all up~ I've got some exciting things planned.**

**Also….fanfiction changed while I was gone…I haven't decided if I like it yet. But soon I shall be changing up my profile, and maybe give this story a cover…wtf…I hope fanfic doesn't turn into wattpad. I liked the simplicity of the stories before… D8**

**I do not own Harvest Moon. Though the original characters Mary and Mitchell are my brainchildren. If you take them without my permission I will throw my fancy new lotions at you.**

**Also, is anyone interested in being a beta-reader for this story? Shoot a pm my way if you are.**

**Again, this story is intended to be viewed at 3/4 width.**

**That is all.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: When I posed as a photographer.<p>

I was standing at the base of a dirt path, the same path I had seen before. On either side of me were trees, and when I looked behind my exit was blocked by more foliage. The only way out was in, and I wasn't particularly looking forward to what this path had in mind for me. I remembered the last time I had dreamt of this path, and I could still remember the Harvest Goddess's wispy voice. This whole thing was a waste of my time, and I knew it.

I was alone. Finn was either hiding from me, or he just wasn't in my dream…well, not to say I was really bothered by this. Finn could be one hell of an annoyance sometimes. If anything it was better I could experience this dream again without him.

One foot after the other I strode down the path. Its dreamy wonders and heavenly appeal could no woo me anymore. I'd seen it once, and I had felt the fear of these unfamiliar surroundings already. I had the experience to continue on. When I took the first turn I remembered I shrugged it off, and when the dirt led to cobblestone I snorted. Typical, it was just like last time.

What I didn't expect was the smell that hit my nose. The air was heavy, and the fog I remembered didn't feel very much like fog…it was clammy, and humid. I breathed in slowly, and my eyes widened as I took in the noticeable scent of _smoke_. This wasn't familiar. It was new, completely and undeniable never-before-seen!

What was the Goddess trying to pull with me, replacing the fog with smoke? I questioned her as I continued on, the smoke getting heavier with every stride. My confidence, however, changed to uncertainty. Surely the Goddess wouldn't use smoke on purpose, because to get smoke, one must first make _fire_.

Fire!

That had to be it, there was a fire! I could even see the tips of the flames as I approached the Shrine. I ran down the familiar marble steps, but they were slippery and my foot caught on their cold surface near the bottom. I landed on my side, ignoring the pain that would bruise. There was something up those stairs, and judging by how the shape was getting bigger it was approaching.

There was a man, a man whose clothing and figure would go unnoticed by me. All I could see was the fire that surrounded him, _without _hurting him. How the flames licked the air around him, and blocked the top of the stairs.

I would remember those flames for the rest of my life, how they radiated heat and anger. Not only the flames, but the man's eyes would be engraved in my mind for as long as I lived…those eyes…

Those eyes were the same as mine.

I woke up in a cold sweat, my legs kicking and my heart pounding. Unfortunately I kicked Chex off the bed in the process, but I didn't think much of it. I sat up so quickly my head began to hurt. When I looked to my brother's bed, hoping for some company in my time of need, he was gone. Only Finn was with me, stretching on my windowsill.

Finn rubbed his eyes cutely. "What is it Mary?" He asked as he hovered over to my bed, plopping down in front of me.

I pulled the sheets off and sat cross-legged, laying my head in my hands as I tried to calm my breath. I couldn't formulate the words to explain what had happened, or how I felt about it. Finn was so patient with me, merely sitting there as I fell apart in front of him. What I had seen sent shivers up my spine. The man was scary, and although I had blanked on his face I could clearly see his eyes, staring back at mine…identical in every way. It scared me to think I was similar to that man on fire… Not only that but I was angry! Why would the Harvest Goddess call me in my sleep only to see _him_?

It suddenly occurred to Finn that I could have had another ethereal dream, and he jumped up at the thought. "Were you contacted by the Harvest Goddess again?" He asked excitedly, spinning in a happy circle.

Distressed, I ran a hand over my sweaty face. I still felt as if I could smell the smoke. "No, Finn….well, maybe. UGH!" I fell back onto my pillow. "I don't know! It was different this time!" Finn crawled over to my pillowcase and lay down next to me. I turned my head to face him.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

I sighed and closed my eyes, only to quickly open them up again because I didn't like the darkness. "I mean it was different! She wasn't even there! There was this guy, and everything was up in flames."

"Up in flames?"

"YES!" I growled, rolling over to my side to face away. Of course, Finn only followed my movement by floating over my body and settling before my face, again. My expression fell. "He was just fiery…on fire…_a man was on fire_!"

That was all I could tell Finn, or at least all I was comfortable with. I didn't feel capable enough to tell him the truth, that the man had my eyes. It spooked me so severely; until I got to the bottom of it I wasn't ready to tell anyone. There was a chance our similar eyes meant something, and my gut had a sick feeling because of it. There was no telling what this could mean for me, or my future.

Thus I simply let the description be. I didn't go beyond the fact he was on fire, it unnerved me enough that saying it further would make it impossible to get dressed without shaking. Finn was adamant in wanting to know more, but he would get no more for me. I told him to let it be, and he obeyed…well only with the promise that today we would go see the Harvest Goddess.

Finn was convinced that my fiery dream was only further proof that I needed to finally meet the Goddess, eye to eye. I still wasn't sure about her, or even sure if I believed in her. Believing in an annoying little sprite was one thing when you could see it, but add on to that an all-mighty Goddess who watched over the land and invaded your dreams…? I just couldn't see it, at least not completely. Still, I had promised Finn we would see her. A promise was a promise.

That morning I managed to push the dream back into the deep recesses of my mind as I dressed. Only I had other plans than the typical. I vetoed my regular farmer-girl outfit for a much classier one: an old orange blouse with a denim jacket and jeans, accompanied by the same muddy boots I wore every day… It was similar to my usual, but it wasn't my usual.

Before I left the house unseen by my parents (who I couldn't locate…huh) I was stopped by Finn, who flew right in my path barking, "Wait! You need a reason to be up there! If you're just wandering around the path, people will be curious and tell your mother!"

Finn was right, and I most certainly did not want my mother involved. She forbade me, long ago, from ever going into the moutains' Garmon Mine District, where the path to the Harvest Goddess was located. (Or at least this is what Finn managed to tell me.) I paused for a moment, until my eyes fell upon an aging camera and a roll of film. I took both and was on my way, Finn smiling pleasurably behind me.

First thing was first, I needed to get someone to do my chores that morning, and since he wasn't in our room to comfort me I figured this would be my own brand of payback. I strode into the barn where Mitchell was, milking one of our cows.

I stood in front of the feeding trough, my arms crossed. "I need your help, little brother."

He pulled his attention from the cow to me, leaning backwards in the sawdust. "Huh?" He asked, brows furrowed in a doubtful look. He didn't seem very willing…

"I've got things to do this morning…and they're very urgent-"

"Oh no no no!" Mitchell snorted, standing up from the ground. He leaned against the cow, only getting a useless 'moo' from the animal. "I'm not doing your chores for you, Mary Margaret." So I see how he was playing, using my middle name as a way to express his authority.

"You owe me." I wasn't winning him over, it was obvious by the way he rolled his eyes and sat back down to milk the cow, pretending to ignore me. "Er…" I mumbled. I needed this, I needed his help badly! I wasn't going to feel right if I didn't see the Goddess and her shrine, fire-free and smokeless. Quickly, I came up with something. "Or, I could owe you?"

Mitchell perked his ears. "I'm listening…go on."

"Right, well. I know you're interested in Vivian," and every other girl in Castanet, but I wasn't about to add that, "so maybe I could see about setting something up…I don't think the few years age difference really bothers her…"

He turned to me, grinning. "You've got yourself a deal…if you add in the promise that, on any day I want, you will do my chores!" I nod in response, perhaps a little too excitedly, because it ignites Mitchell's next comment. "So who are you going to see? _Roy_? _Matt_? How about that _Taylor_?"

I saw what he was doing, he was trying to tell if I had any romantic interests in order to make fun of me later for it, and I wasn't about to let him win. "No. For your information, I'm going to see an old friend…uh…Lucy."

His shoulders fell. "Selena and Luke's kid?"

I put my arms on my hips proudly and nodded. "Yup." It was all a big fat lie. I didn't really like Lucy. She was cool and all…but the two of us didn't mesh well. We were too different, and she was just too damn exotic for another girl to compete. I wasn't vain, but when it came down to it Lucy had grown up far better than I, and it intimidated me.

That marked the end of our conversation, and possibly was the only one we'd have all day. Mitchell and I weren't the closest of siblings, but we didn't seem to care. I gave him a brief thanks and goodbye before striding out of the barn and into the streets, my camera in hand.

xXx

As I made my way up the mountainside path that led to the Garmon Mine District, Finn began to speak again. He commented on the plants, and the shockingly fair weather. He also began to explain what seeing the Harvest Goddess was like, in real life and not just a silly dream.

"It's a lot different," He explained happily, bounding forward at a speed that had me huffing. "She's much much MUCH prettier in person. I mean, she's ALWAYS pretty, but you'll be really amazed when you see her!" He never seemed to stop talking about her, and he spent a full twenty minutes just going on about her looks alone. I was unimpressed, and actually peeved by the detail he went into when describing her posture and natural elegance.

He managed to change topics, luckily for me. "…so there's this tree up there, called the Divine Tree. It's the Goddess's, and it's sort of like a symbol of her power and the strength of the Island! She always stands in front of it…and in your first dream her beauty probably blinded you from seeing it." I rolled my eyes. Figured.

As we crossed the shaky bridge over the river I held tight onto the edges, fearful the rope might break and I'd plummet into the cold waters below. Finn, however, could care less as he was far too overtaken with his telling of the Harvest Goddess and all of her endeavors. "She really is magnificent! She's super caring, and super beautiful. Those who worship her are almost always better off in life…putting your faith in her all around beauty-"

"I get it, Finn. She's beautiful!" I told him, annoyed, as I took my last step on the bridge and my first onto solid land. I nearly fell to my knees and kissed the soil.

Finn, however, shook his head at my remark. "No! She's gorgeous!"

I pretended not to hear that comment as I surveyed the area. Garmon Mine had a sort of salt-and-pepper feel to it. It felt aged and vintage, the colors were dull, a refreshing change from the bright hues of the business district. All lined up against the trees were shops, like the Carpenter's, Jeweller's, and Blacksmith's. Next to the General Store was a pathway that led into the trees, and I judged that's where I need to go. However, my eyes were far more taken with the mountain at the end near the horizon. It was tall and looming, mysteriously clouded at the very top of it. It was as if something was up there somebody didn't want to see…

I tried not to think about the mountain and focused more on the path. My boots stomped on the ground heavily, sending dust and dirt up in puffs. I had a tendency to walk with force, like a man.

Near my shoulder Finn gave me directions towards the forest path next to the General Store, despite my objections. I would have responded to him verbally, but up ahead I spotted a man by the Carpenter's. He was average height and build, and oddly familiar… He reminded me of Taylor, age-wise, but I couldn't place who he was. He noticed me and smiled, which made me feel like one big ass for not recognizing him like he obviously did me.

"You've grown up so much," the mysterious strange told me as he took my hand and excitedly shook it.

I offered him a weak smile and silence, unsure what to say except for "Uh…thanks…"

Whoever he was, his face fell at my distant response. "You don't remember me, do you?" He asked, taking his hand away to rub the back of his neck as he sighed. "I didn't think you would, but one can hope."

I quirked a brow, signaling for him to continue. "I hung around you when you were just a baby," he advised me, "I baby-sitted you and your brother, at least while I was a Carpenter's Apprentice. The name's Bo."

As I looked at this "Bo" closer, I deduced that somewhere in my distant memories I _did _know who he was, the memory was merely blurred. Bo appeared to be somewhat of a meek man, he didn't look all that confident in himself like Taylor, or some of the rowdy adults on Castanet. There wasn't much special about him, at least nothing that stood out to me. He seemed pretty normal.

"So Mary," he interjected, tearing me away from my efforts at trying to remember him, "what do you need up here on the mountain?"

I shrugged and lifted up the camera in my hand. "I'm going to take some nature shots of that path over there," I told him as I gestured towards the path with a head nod. My lie was flawless, and I felt confident in my ability to get past Bo unnoticed.

"What, that old pathway? There's nothing there to take pictures of." Bo responded. "The path is littered with roots and fallen trees; it's been that way for years. And there aren't any animals except for a bear, and it'll rip your throat out if it thinks you're there for its cub. It's too dangerous for you to go alone, Mary…If…If I let you do that, your mother would kill me." He nodded as his comment, crossing arms. He attempted to act brave as he added on his next offer. "So you'll just have to let me tag along."

"No! Mary he can't! We won't be able to see the Goddess if it comes!" Finn blubbered anxiously, flittering on my shoulder. I frowned.

"No…uh, I should be fine. Thanks Bo." I responded. My voice was anything but strong and confident, unlike how it had been before. As I attempted to pass by Bo, he crossed his arms and stepped in my path, blocking me.

He must have seen through my bull, why else would he deliberately disturb me? Bo shook his head. "I really can't let you do that. It's dangerous, you could trip and fall where nobody could help you…or get eaten by that bear!"

I lightly laughed at his comment. "Now you're just being ridiculous."

"No, I'm not!" Bo exclaimed, stopping me yet again as I attempted to walk by his other side. "This is serious business."

I huffed; this was harder than I thought it would be. I really had no way to convince him, well, I would have had no way, had it not been for Finn who apparently knew more about the people on the Island than I did.

"Mary," Finn told me, "Bo admires your father; he even talked about it with your father during a Poker Night at the Bar." My ears perked at the news, as I had an idea.

Nicely, I placed a hand on Bo's arm gently. "You're probably right, and I wouldn't go in there under any other circumstances…but I promised I'd meet my father in there. He's coming right now to be my guide."

Bo's eyes narrowed, but I could tell his was considering it. "Really? Your father is going in there with you?"

I nodded expectantly.

"Well…I guess that's fine, then." Bo responded, taking a step to the side unsurely.

I smiled at Bo and briskly walked forward, Finn leading the way. I looked over my shoulder by the time I'd reached the overgrown entrance to the path to see Bo watching me closely. Nervously, I smiled a second time, snapping a picture of some random weed to further my "cause". He seemed pleased enough by that and walked away, out of sight and out of mind. Thank goodness.

The good thing about returning to the Island after years was that the people didn't know what I did, or what type of person I was. They were ignorant towards my hobbies, or knowledge, which made it that much easier to lie to them…not to say I _wanted _to lie to them…at least not all the time.

The path was truly a mess. It may have been green and luscious, but almost in a negative sense. Within the first few minutes of wandering through it I encountered a fallen tree trunk that I had to awkwardly climb over to get past. Through this mess, Finn had no idea how lucky he was to float in the air idly. I had to watch my step, there was no telling what was hiding in the overgrown grass…the path was nothing like in my dreams. It wasn't clear, or foggy.

Turns out the forest on the mountains really weren't that dangerous. Although it was a bit eerie with all the tall trees and dim lighting, I didn't run into anything incredibly unsafe. Bo had made it seem a lot bigger than it really was.

To pass the time, Finn spent quite a while blabbering about the Goddess again. It was something he really liked to do, perhaps to an unhealthy extent. He was too fond of the Goddess who plagued my dreams, and because I had already heard the same stories of beauty and grace many times I blocked most of it out. At least…I did until he began to talk about me.

"Boy Mary, you sure got lucky!" Finn commented, doing a spin in the air as we pushed forward. "That boat ride that brought you here was one in a million."

I quirked a brow. I hadn't thought it to be anything special at the time. "What do you mean?"

Finn shrugged and flitted to my other side. "The ocean hasn't been the same for a long time, and it's been getting worse. That was probably the last safe voyage Mr. Pascal is ever gonna make!"

I shook my head. Pascal was a darn good sailor, not much would stop him. Even if the seas were as ferocious as they had been lately, I was pretty sure Pascal would survive and prosper. In fact, the man liked a little danger in his area of work. If I needed to be worried about anyone, it certainly wasn't Pascal.

A lot of things on Castanet were connected with each other, which pegged my next question. "Does the strange weather have anything to do with my dreams? Or the Harvest Goddess?" I asked.

Again Finn could only offer me a somewhat decent answer accompanied by a shrug. "I don't know…I'm not a real Harvest Sprite, Mary, so I don't know anything specific." He mumbled dejectedly. "I mean, I would be a real one, thanks to your mom, but…I don't know." The sprite sighed and sat down on my shoulder.

I felt bad for Finn, I truly did. "Why can't you be a real one? You deserve it more than any other sprite, having to stick around two generations of my family and all."

He gave a weak smile. "It's because of the King. He doesn't like, I mean, he doesn't like anyone in general but he especially dislikes me…and he's responsible for making a sprite a Harvest Sprite. He's got all the authority around here."

That didn't sound right, or fair. In the land of the ever-so-beautiful Harvest Goddess Finn so often talked about I would have believed her to be the supreme figure. I would have never guessed that the way their world worked was similar to my own, where there was always one higher being above everything else who could either be the best leader ever, or the most corrupt. It made me feel disappointed that the leader was the latter.

I was about to ask about this King, when my foot landed on soft, smooth marble and stone. Finn and I both froze, eyes locked in anticipation.

We had made it to the Harvest Goddess.

I was going to meet the _Harvest Goddess_.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


	6. When I met the Harvest Goddess

**I do not own Harvest Moon, but it is my favorite game to play. FO SHO, HOMIE.**

**For some reason I've been really into gangsta talk recently…hmm…**

**Anyways, I'm back from Hiatus. My computer issues are fixed, for the time-being. I can't guarantee anything, though. If I was in my right mind I wouldn't continue Haven, as it has barely and readers. HOWEVER, I like how I've developed Mary and Mitchell's characters, so I'm not going to stop now.**

**We've gotta finish this bad boy! Woot!**

* * *

><p>The place was even more amazing than in my dreams. The marble was shinier, so reflective! I could see my reflection on the surface of the rails. The trees appeared healthier in every aspect, they were taller and greener. Not to mention how nice it was not to have to walk through boiling flames or impossible-to-see-through mist. The stone bridge over the small creek was my favorite part, how nicely I glided down the steps. It was as if I, too, were a God.<p>

But when I finally got a look at the Harvest Goddess, I knew I was nothing compared to her. She was…well, all the times Finn had exaggerated her beauty _weren't _exaggerated. I didn't think I had ever seen a woman who was so uniquely perfect. Yes, her head was too round, and her hands too small, but in an odd way it all meshed together in one perfect enigma of a woman… A floating woman, who had her hands clasped over her lap and was smiling straight at me. Her expression gave me a warm, giddy sensation. I suddenly felt as if I wanted to be near this woman for the rest of my life. Yet I was paralyzed in my place at the end of the marble steps.

Finn immediately bowed to her, on the ground. His movement distracted me, and I looked to the tree behind her as well as the sprites that surrounded it. It was, well, how do I put this nicely? The tree was very Charlie Brown Christmas-esque. The branches were thin and brambly, and I couldn't believe that tiny base held up the vast network of weak curvature. The sprites lounging around it were just as cute as Finn, all dressed up like tiny rainbow Santa's Helpers. I wanted to snuggle them all at once, which was weird, since I was hardly the type of girl to "snuggle".

"Have you ever lived in one place so long you couldn't imagine leaving it?" The Harvest Goddess inquired, drawing me out of my inspective trance.

"Well, I…" I paused. I knew exactly how that felt. I had felt that way about the Middle East, yet I'd left that just fine.

She nodded her head. "You may think you know it, young one, but let me assure you that you don't." She told me. Well, that was certainly a _nice _way to start out acquaintanceship. Without noticing my discomfort, she went on.

"Let me Enlighten you. When you feel this for a certain place, you would do anything, if not everything, to keep living there. This very drastic loyalty is what I feel, since the beginning of time, of Castanet." Her smile and eyes faded, yet she somehow still managed to retain an essence of perfection no human could match.

I felt bad for the goddess, I did, but I didn't know why she was going to me, of all people. I didn't know how to comfort her. If she wanted to be comforted, she was better off choosing a more compassionate subject, like Vivian. That girl was too sweet for her own good…

"My time here, however, looks as if it's coming to a close." She mumbled, suddenly catching Finn's attention.

My small companion rushed towards her, zipping through the air to fall at her feet. "No! Don't say that, Goddess! We can fix it!" The poor sprite was hiccupping, tears welling up in his eyes.

The divine woman knelt down to pick up the sprite in her hands, and brought him up to eye-sight. "I'm sorry, my child. But _we _can't do anything. This matter is beyond us."

I got a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach when the goddess and all of her sprites (including Finn) suddenly turned to look at me. Their eyes! Oh, that look in their eyes! I wasn't one to fall to dramatics, but I was certain I could never erase that pleading, beaten-puppy look from my memory ever again. Still, I didn't get it. Only that they wanted me to do something.

Then it clicked. "Me?" I pointed to my chest, choking on my words. "What about me? This has nothing to do with me! I'm human! This can't have anything to do with me!" I shook my head, crossing my arms protectively.

Finn flew to rest on the Harvest Goddess's shoulder as the woman approached me. Her aura was warm. "Oh, Mary. That's why it must be you." She hovered to me, using a hand to lightly force my head to face her.

"I don't get it," I mumbled in awe. Up close she was even more spectacular.

"Haven't you wondered why only you could see Finn?" She asked me, the mentioned sprite giggling as he flitted back to my shoulder, suddenly in a happy mood again. The goddess went on. "Or how I was able to contact you in your dreams?"

I opened my mouth to question, but then shut it. She did make a good point, and I did want to know the answers. I needed reassurance that I wasn't crazy, and this whole thing wasn't the long nightmare of a psychopath.

She paused for me to answer, and when I didn't she went on. "It's because you and I, we have a connection. Somehow through your body, my world can connect with yours. Your mother was the same way…"

"And why do you think that?" I pestered.

She chuckled and shrugged, pulling away to float back to her tress. "Oh, I don't know." She told me leisurely. "I can only assume that at one point during your or your mother's life you were blessed by something beyond mankind." Once she was facing me again, she placed her hands behind her back and nodded. "You know, now that I think of it, you have the same spirit as your mother."

When she referenced my mother I frowned, the only pictures popping into my head were the ones where she was chastising me or ignoring me. "I am nothing like my mother!" I blurt out rudely, turning my body to the side and looking away.

There was a pregnant pause, where I searched the horizon with my eyes. I knew I shouldn't have spoken out like that, it was disrespectful. My father had tried to instill good morals in me, he really did. I should've tried harder to listen and understand. (Especially since I was talking to a divine creature that probably created the ground I stood on.) Yet it was hard, she was giving me so much information at once…and all for what? To pity me into helping her? And if so, what the hell was I supposed to help her with?

"I see I may have offended you, I'm sorry." The Goddess responded, frowning. "I'm still getting use to this 'human-interaction' ordeal. It's been many years since I last talked to your kind." She gestured calmly to me.

I turned back to look at her. "Just answer me this," I said, pointing randomly in a confused passion, "What do you want from me? And what does my mom have to do with this?"

Finn whispered in my ear, "That's two questions!" I ignored him; this was no time for jokes. I was serious.

The Harvest Goddess took a deep breath in, preparing herself for what seemed like a long story. I couldn't help but think how "great" it was I was there, taking orders from somebody that may or may not be real.

"There are five very important bells that were once lost, strewn all over the Island. When I had fallen ill and was too weak to do anything but stay confined at my shrine, I used the last bit of my power to create the sprites you see before you. Finn's purpose was to find someone who could help us-"

"And I did!" Finn chimed in.

The goddess laughed lightly. "Yes little one, you did. You found just who we were looking for. Her name was Anna, she was new to Castanet and wasn't blinded as the residents were. She could see Finn, like you can. Also like you, she didn't want to help. She wanted to establish herself on Castanet and start a life here, but that all changed when she realized she couldn't have a life here if the Island died. Many people can't have a life here if Castanet perishes. Your friends and family will all have to move away from the very place they've been on for generations."

I didn't know how much more I could take before just giving in, but no matter how I approached it I didn't think the goddess would be letting me off the hook.

"Anna was a hero; she found the bells and united them with the sprites. With the help of another we were able to restore Castanet and the Divine Tree back to its former glory. Naturally, this didn't all happen at once." The woman chuckled knowingly, but she was the only one who got the joke. "It took many years. But eventually we were restored."

"That's great, peachy, dandy." I told her blandly, "But what does this have to do with me?"

"We _were _restored, for a little while. The ocean started to act up again, and the elements all since then have begun to follow suit. It seems the Blue Bell has chipped. Somewhere in Castanet a piece of it still lingers. If we don't find that piece again, soon nature will be at war with itself…under no circumstances can the bells be off balance!" The Goddess had suddenly become passionate, waving her hands at certain parts and lowering her voice intensely. This meant a lot to her, any fool could tell.

"For years I have been searching for another to help, but it looked like nobody from the outside world was interested in visiting Castanet… That is until I learnt that you and your family were returning. Now I fear I need your family's help again, as I have used the last bit of my power calming to see to assure your safe arrival." She explained, her shoulders slumping.

Suddenly the blue sprite perked up, making his way towards me. "I'm sorry Mary, I didn't mean to chip the blue bell…" He pursed his lips cutely, briskly proclaiming. "Oh! But I'll…I'll..well, I'll do anything I can to help find it! I swear I will!"

I smiled at the small thing, tilting my head to the side. "It's all right…" I murmured, surprising myself. Of course it wasn't _all right_. Because of the tiny thing, I had to drop all my goals of relocation and starting anew to fix the mess the little twerp caused. I had to go out of my way to search for some tiny fragment of an ancient bell that could be buried in the ocean sea, for all I knew. Worst of all, I had the feeling that if I _did _do this (and there were no guarantees that I would) I would uncover more than just a fragmented piece of a bell.

"Why can't my mother do this?!" I blurted out, stomping my foot like a petty child.

"Because she can't see us anymore," Finn stated, lightly patting my shoulder with his tiny hand. "I flew right past her thinking it was you and she didn't see me, then I flew to you thinking you were her, and _you _saw me! So when I thought I found her I really found you, and that's why you have to find the chipped piece of the blue bell!"

I stared at the creature, mouth agape. What did he just say?

I didn't want this, but it was all thrown on me and they didn't even seem to care. They were so preoccupied with the balance of the elements, apparently, which was a topic I wasn't so concerned about. However, earlier the Goddess had made a good point. How could I possibly imagine settling down on Castanet if within a few years Castanet didn't even exist anymore? Although I had only been on Castanet for a little while, I felt as if I belonged there…of course I wasn't about to admit this to the goddess. If I was going to agree to this, I was going to milk it for what it's worth.

I pursed my lips, looking at all of the sprites' pleading faces. "If I do this," their faces instantaneously brightened, "and there's no guarantee that I will," those same happy faces fell, "then I want something in return."

The Harvest Goddess's eyes widened. "Surely, we will give you anything you want."

I quirked an eyebrow…anything I wanted. I could've had _anything_, but there were really only a few things I wanted to know. I didn't want material possessions, I wanted answers.

I quickly staked my claim. "I want you to answer any question I have, forever! Or at least as long as it takes to find the chipped blue pendent."

"Blue _Bell_!" Daren, the blue sprite corrected.

I shrugged. "Right, that thing. Also, I want Roy's arm to heal quickly…if you can do that." Not only did I want him healthy so I could continue to gaze at his muscles (oh, I didn't just admit to that), but he still had new walls to construct.

The Goddess smiled and fluttered over to me, taking my shoulders in her warm palms. "Done!" She exclaimed. "Whatever you want."

I smiled lightly and removed her hands, taking a step backwards from all the divine-ness of her presence. I felt so simple next to her. She didn't seem disturbed; rather she seemed more interested, as my movement caused her to look at my eyes.

"My…where have I seen that color before…?" She mumbled.

I was eager to get out the shrine quickly, thus I brushed the significant question off the side and asked. "Alright, so what do I do when I have it?"

The Harvest Goddess, for what seemed like the final time, returned to her post near the tree. "Just return to the shrine. If you need assistance from one of us up here, all you need to do is blow an old, broken animal whistle. The whistle used to work for circus animals, but it's become so old and scratchy that only a sprite's high-sensitivity ears can hear it. But you must hurry, powers above are getting impatient, and the sea can only stay tame so long…"

I nodded and responded sarcastically, "Oh, right. Because that makes perfect sense…" Sighing, I turned around and began to walk away from them. Only a second had passed when I swiveled back around, another question in mind. "So where do I find this whist-"

They were gone. The Harvest Goddess and her sprites had all simultaneously disappeared, leaving just me and Finn. "Oh, they're so helpful," I again said with spite. My sarcasm was on a role.

Finn bounced around on my shoulder. "But you've got _me_, Mary."

I pretended to smile and laugh like it was a good thing, only knowing in my head that the only thing Finn would be useful for was to occupy my cat while I was out "searching".

xXx

The conversation I had with the Harvest Goddess, you know, the one where I agreed to find the impossible, didn't seem like it had taken that long. However, when we left the shrine that day, day wasn't _day _anymore. The sun had fallen long ago, and the stars were already out. I stopped in my tracks, amazed. Turned out Finn had neglected to tell me that time passed at least eight times as fast when you were around the Harvest Goddess in her shrine. No wonder my dreams were always so short…

The darkness was eerie, and everywhere I looked I felt as if little forest creatures were watching me. I was relieved to exit the thorny pathway onto the Garmon Mine District's dirt road. Again I was reminded how very lucky Finn was that he could fly.

I didn't know just what to do with myself after that "meeting". I knew that I'd already agreed to it, and it was final –I was organizing deals with a _goddess _after all. How would I even go about starting a search so vast? The bell piece could be anywhere on Castanet, that's to say if it hadn't been washed away by the freaky weather we'd been having.

And even then, once I figured out where to look, there was no telling how long it would take to comb for it. I didn't know how big it was, or how heavy. All I had to go off of was color, and many things were blue: herbs, berries, and stones. I could easily mistake the chipping, especially if I were to search half-awake like I usually was in the mornings and evenings.

Oh, and don't get me started about the Goddess's vague instructions to find a chipping _somewhere_, and to use some random whistle to contact them? It didn't make any sense, considering that whistle could be any whistle. Believe me, there were many whistles on Castanet. The farms and valleys here were so big that it was natural to carry a whistle in case you wanted to call your young children back into range, or get the attention of a neighbor.

It became clear to me that I couldn't do this all on my own, there was no way I would succeed like that. I needed help, whether by more sprites or a person. I didn't exactly trust the sprites (some of them looked equally if not more annoying than Finn) so I was left with one person…one person that would probably need to trust me…one person who would need to trust me and be willing to give up their free time and search for chipped wood. I highly doubt I had met anyone yet who was willing.

When it occurred to me! Who had I just promised to find an adventure for before his unfortunate fall off my roof? Why, it was Roy! He could help be, and I knew he wouldn't judge or doubt my story. Roy had always been there for me…but would he honestly stick with me through this? The only way I'd find out was if I were to ask him.

I was about to think of different ways to ask Roy, just to may sure I didn't sound too crazy, when I saw something in the periphery. I was walking towards the shaky Garmon Bridge when I spotted it, a fleeting image of gray before there was nothing.

"I don't like this…" Finn mumbled, he saw it too, and was now huddled near my side.

I shook my head in response. "Neither do I…" I quickened my pace to the bridge, hands trembling as I grasped the unsteady rails made of string. I wanted to cross strongly, as if that sudden sight wasn't affecting me, but it was. I distinctly remembered the flash of grey being in the shape of a _human_. Nobody was supposed to be out at night, it was weird if they were. Sure, the people of Castanet were kind and hospitable, but that was only during the day time when they had a front to keep up. (I was so cynical I didn't see how they could be so pleasant twenty-four hours of a day.) I still, however, didn't trust them.

Finn and I went as fast as we could across the bridge, and I was incredibly relieved when my feet hit solid ground and I could continue down the Mountain Path at a run while Finn followed behind, occasionally commenting on the sheer fear he felt.

Even during sketchy times, Finn somehow managed to talk non-stop. Didn't he ever run out of breath? I thought he had, at least then when he stopped talking…but it seemed suspicious. Finn was never quiet, and when he was that was only because I effectively tuned him out. Yet there I was, listening very closely, and not hearing anything. To make sure he was still stationed behind me, I turned around.

He wasn't behind me. I frowned. "That little jerk, leaving me all alone out her-" I mumbled angrily as I turned around to continue down, now calm.

Or at least, I _was_ calm.

I was immediately greet with the sight of a strange man, holding Finn in his palms like an ornament. I stumbled backwards, taken off guard by his sudden appearance. He was a man, appeared to be around 30. It was hard to tell in the night, but his skin was dark. He had a very vivid black tattoo around one of his eyes (which one I wasn't sure, relativity wasn't my thing), and his hair was _grey_. Could he be the thing I saw back in the district? Still, I was so surprised I was at a loss for words. He, however, wasn't.

The unnamed man, still focused on Finn, only briefly glanced at me. "So, this girl is your new subject?" He asked Finn, although the frightened sprite didn't answer. "I see the Goddess's taste in servants hasn't changed."

I felt very defensive at that point, picking myself up and pointing accusingly at him. "I am no servant, and I'm certainly not a 'subject'."

He rose his eyebrows, releasing Finn who quickly retreated behind me. "Really now? What lies has she told you about Castanet? Oh, has she started to tell you about her 'weakened' powers yet? That's always a good one." The man stopped to circle me, a finger on his chin.

I frowned. "What do you know about the Harvest Goddess?" I asked him, hands on my hips. I tried to act strong and cool, but I found this man of considerable height difference very invasive. I didn't like how he ignored boundaries.

When he circled back to front, he stepped closer and pulled my chin forward with his fingers. I resisted, naturally, but found I couldn't. That tattoo of his suddenly interested me so much… He looked closely into my eyes, (Why oh why is it always the _eyes_!) before he released me, satisfied.

"I only know that she doesn't tell you the whole truth, and with her you only get false promises." He told me, adjusting his cuffs.

I furrowed my brows. I couldn't figure out who he was. I had never seen this man in my life, and my parents had made it a habit to make sure I knew every single last villager. Maybe, then, he wasn't a villager? For all I knew he could've been an escaped convict living on Castanet to hide from the law. Most importantly, how on earth did he know about the Harvest Goddess, and why did he hate her so much?

Before I could ask the man began to stride away. "Hey, wait!" I called after, rushing to follow him down the path.

He rose a hand to stop me, but only for a moment. "It was nice meeting you, the infamous Mary." He said to me before glancing at my small companion, "same goes for you, Finn." He nodded our way, leaving us flabbergasted.

It was such a brief conversation with a stranger, and was one of the most strange, abnormal meetings I had ever had…yet at the same time it was one I'd never forget. Especially since his last words left me with the sickening feeling he would read minds.

"Oh, and for the record, Mary," he called out as he walked away, "I don't hate the Harvest Goddess."

xXx

Why was it that no matter where I went, or who I saw, at least once a day someone would disappear without me noticing? Well, all right, I would admit that once a day was exaggerated, but it was still annoying. It was as if the people of Castanet studied a class in High School called something like "How to Disappear Mysteriously and Leave People Hanging 101." After my little chat with the stranger at night, and the Harvest Goddess, I was convinced the villagers thought it was their duty to leave me with unanswered questions and a severe headache.

I honestly didn't know what to think about the stranger with the tattoo. He was strange, I'd give him that much. But he also seemed as if he knew a lot, and could help me. But would I really want help from a guy like that? When I thought about it, I was adamant about my answer: no, someone like that would be my last resource for help. I was determined never to sink so low as to track down that man and beg him to help. I was above that.

Then why was it when I got home I was still angry? A normal person would've calmed down by then and given their brain a chance for rest. Me, on the other hand, I just skipped the contemplation stage and went right to anger. I didn't know why I was so angry…I just was, and that was good enough for me.

Unfortunately I wasn't the only angry one. When I suck back into the house that night the lights were suddenly turned on. My mother and father were sitting at the dining room table, dressed in their pajamas, looking very cross. I had forgotten how late it was. My little "distraction" on the way home had stopped me from thinking of any alibi.

"Where have you been, young lady?" My mother asked, abruptly standing up. Her chair reeled back, screeching against the wood floors. She was infuriated by me, I could tell. Not only that, but she had a very accurate lie detector built into her brain.

"You push all your chores on Mitchell and then you just _disappear_!" She burst, her face puffing up from the swelled up anger. "You better explain yourself or…OR…"

My father was up by then and behind her, hands on her shoulders to keep her calm. "What your mother is trying to tell you is that we've been up all night, worried sick you'd been hurt."

I frowned. He looked so disappointed, and my father was the last person I wanted to disappoint. "I know, I'm sorry. But I'm old enough now you don't have to worry about me. Tonight I just lost track of time, is all."

I don't know if my words really settled them, but I would like to assume so. After I said that my parents just sighed and walked away, my dad looking disappointed and my mother up in flames. I didn't understand what their problem was at the time. I didn't care that I was their only daughter, and because of my "odd" behavior (or what I saw as normal) people were starting to wonder and start rumors. Of course at that moment, the rumor was the least of my problem.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>


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